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 Still, Tag: Robb the Heartthrob
Eleana Arryn
 Posted: Jun 14 2016, 10:39 AM
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Eleana Arryn
is currently Offline.
"I wanted water but I walk through the fire. If this is what it takes to take me even higher then I'll come through when the world keeps testing me."
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18 YEARS OLD
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LADY, HOPEFUL HEIR TO THE VALE
Valemen
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LYSTHEA
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2 secrets
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As she rode through the East Gate, the mood seemed to settle back in around her as if it had never once dissipated. The faces of those who lived within the northern stronghold were just as crestfallen as they had been when she had left earlier that morning. With their Lady dead, Eleana could hardly blame them. The blow had been deep and stunning as it had caught the entirety of Winterfell off guard. Catelyn Stark had been a force in her own right, a good and just woman with a knack for matters of state and an equally strong control over her family. No one could have possibly foreseen her demise nor could they have begun to imagine who would have dared do such a thing as murder the Lady of Winterfell.

The young Arryn had traveled north to rejoin the Starks in their grief, but to also tend to her own mother's desolation. Lysa Arryn had dwindled at the news of her sister's death. What madness her daughter imagined her possessing only increased into the ravings of vengeance and rectitude. Eleana, for her part, had remained troubled but had kept the same heedful mind as her father. Jon Arryn had since spent much of his time with the Warden of the North in an effort to both console Eddard Stark and piece together the mystery behind his wife's death.

However, the hopeful heir to the Vale had more intentions for traveling to the ancestral home of the Starks than simply grieving over the death of her aunt. The words contained in the letters of Robb Stark had pulled her so sharply from the towers of the Eyrie and had left her wanting-- yearning for the North has she had done several times before, wishing she did not have to part ways so sorrowfully each time she left, and hungering for Robb's contact more than she rightfully should have given his betrothed state.

One could tell that she had been outside for the better portion of the morning. As she dismounted from her steed with ease and led the animal back into the security of the stables, her cheeks were flush from the morning chill. Her gloved hands took hold of the quiver and bow she had brought with her that morning and she gratefully acknowledged the two bannermen who had accompanied her before sauntering back into the yard momentarily. Her regard shifted to the heavy wooden doors that concealed the hallowed ground of Winterfell. Not once had she visited the godswood since her arrival and she felt guilty for breaking trust with the gods at such a time.

The wide berth of oaks, ironwoods, and soldier pines greeted her sights as she walked between them. The path was as she remembered, a winding dirt and stone passage that would lead to the very heart of the sacred wood. It hadn't changed for thousands of years and she could recall the names from her childhood of all who had once walked through it, as well as the memories they held for her alone.

The godswood within the Eyrie held no weirwood and therefore the crimson canopy had been replaced with a vacant yet penetrating statue of a woman which allowed little to no solace; she remains forever in tears, a weeping figure to remind one of life's unrelenting temperament. It unnerved Eleana enough that she rarely frequented the godswood. It was a far cry from the mournful stare she now received as she looked at the heart tree that appeared before her, its face red with ancient sap. Both objects were meant to emphasize the same message and yet the slight wind that blew through the oaks of Winterfell's godswood brought with it a sensation of pacifism, an emotion never offered on the peaks of the Eyrie.

Setting the bow and quiver down before the base of the weirwood's white stock, she dared to reach out and touch it, her palm meeting the trunk with care. The Vale worshipped the new gods, the Seven, but they still held to their beliefs in the old deities. There was an almost divine sensation here that could not be found elsewhere and her figure backed away from the tree out of reverence before her eyes closed in prayer.

The concerns came instantly and her mind was fraught with images from the past that still weighed heavy on her consciousness: the death she had traveled leagues to mourn, how fate had appeared to redirect her path at a near constant rate for years, the wars and conflicts that led her own family to this point, and finally the reminder that it was before the weirwood that Eleana and Robb had pledged their devotion. It was the sacred tree that had first become witness to their passions and promises in the form of a kiss.

The awareness of it caused the lady to once again open her eyes to meet the gaze in the engraved trunk. She had looked for Robb when she had first awoken but had been unable to locate him that morning. Having half a mind to believe that Lyra Mormont was to blame for his absence, the face before her looked to condemn her spite. Eleana frowned deeply. Then why do you all content yourselves at placing him in my presence if I am not to feel this way, her thoughts demanded as she pulled her fur-lined cloak closer against her cheeks. What do you want from me?

Robb 928 words The Godswood
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Robb Stark
 Posted: Jun 20 2016, 04:33 PM
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Robb Stark
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.lisa:first-letter { float: left; padding: 5px; font-family: pinyon script; text-transform: uppercase; color: #222; font-size: 35px; }.lisalyric { padding: 10px; max-height: 110px; overflow: hidden; font-family: calibri; line-height: 100%; text-transform: uppercase; font-size: 7px; letter-spacing: 3px; text-align: justify; border-bottom: #eee solid 1px; color: #eee; }.lisalyric:first-letter { float: left; padding: 5px; font-family: pinyon script; text-transform: uppercase; font-size: 35px; color: #e5d2bc; }.lisalyric:first-line { color: #e5d2bc; }You came and lay a cold compress upon the mess I'm in. Winterfell lay deathly quiet.Its great lord sat in his great hall receiving common folk from Wintertown and local nobles alike, forcing a weak nod and the occasional brief smile as someone expressed a fond memory of his lady wife, the late Catelyn Stark, born Tully. It was all Ned Stark could do to keep from weeping.The girls had ceased bickering, for once. The wolves had ceased their howling and now barely chirped at meal times. Even Hodor had grown silent, seeming to forget the one word he knew - his own name. The only enduring sound came from wild young Rickon, who routinely hung out of anyone he could find, asking when his mother was coming home.Robb had taken to holing himself up in his lodgings and had remained that way for days, permitting no visitors except the maids who came to empty his chamber pot and replace his clothes. It was all too much for the Young Wolf. Nobody at Winterfell was feeling particularly verbose in the loss of their matriarch, but Robb had taken that unthinkable blow worse than almost anyone. Words failed to describe his state; inconsolably stoic came closest, perhaps. Unshaven and unkempt, he sat for days with only the letters Maester Luwin passed under his door for company. They were mostly platitudes sent by vassal houses, words of condolence from Stark and Tully bannermen alike… except on those special days, the ones Robb lived for, when word would arrive by raven from his cousin Eleana. Several times she had written him since the conversation they'd had on the Strange Isles, several times had her words been the only salve for the wounds left by his mother's passing.Finally, on the day a man dressed in Arryn blue arrived at the Southern gate to announce Lord Arryn's imminent arrival, a knock came on the door. "My lord. Forgive me, as I know you wish not to be disturbed, but Lord Tully has arrived, and your cousin Eleana… Lord Jon is with your father in the great hall, but she has been asking for you. I last glimpsed her making for the godswood." Robb had left it too late to shave, had made but a passing effort to tidy some of his dark tangles licked with bronze. He managed to find his best tunic, however - the one with the silver direwolf clasps, and clothed himself finally in his newest cloak. Luwin, thankfully, had not lingered in the passage, knowing Robb needed to be left well enough alone but all but Eleana at this time. He sometimes wondered how much the wise Maester knew, but comforted himself with the knowledge - or at least the conviction - that they had always been discrete.He entered the godswood by the southern gate, having left the Great Keep and crossed the courtyard past the old Library Tower and the Guest House. He approached carefully, not wishing to startle her - or perhaps wishing to savor the moment just a little. Seeing her there by the old Weirwood tree almost quenched the fire inside him in an instant - the pain and anger that seemed to lap at his heart both day and night without ceasing. It faded somewhat in the instant that his eyes caught sight of the pale, beautiful woman before him. The stark white light of the fading, overcast sky illuminating her face before a backdrop of blood red leaves cast his mind back to all the times they had stood before that Weirwood tree before; all the stolen kisses.She seemed not to notice his approach, lost deep in thought as she faced the tree whose face was marred red by the sap of so many cycles hence. He spoke up to get her attention: "Do you remember what you said to me all those years ago, right in this very spot? You said: 'What is it you want with me, wolf?' I didn't have an answer... I couldn't be honest, because I wanted you. I wanted all of you, more than anything else that a mere child could possibly dream of wanting. But I had no right to want you then, and I have no right to want you now. Instead, I simply need you."
^
Eleana Arryn
 Posted: Jun 29 2016, 02:45 PM
Quote
Eleana Arryn
is currently Offline.
"I wanted water but I walk through the fire. If this is what it takes to take me even higher then I'll come through when the world keeps testing me."
age
18 YEARS OLD
job
LADY, HOPEFUL HEIR TO THE VALE
Valemen
group
LYSTHEA
alias
2 secrets
posts


His voice found her as easily as the thoughts in her mind disintegrated from hearing his words. The glaze of her cerulean eyes had jerked themselves from the sights of the old gods in such a way that it would have been easy to gather that the heir to Winterfell was just as important (if not slightly more paramount) than the celestial beings she had been speaking to. He remained the most genuine force in her life, a person who's strength, conviction, and courage far outmatched her own. There was never a man who held more sway over her than him and the longer she stood before the weirwood, the more she reminisced upon their endearments and the secrets the trees had come to share.

The cold ground and lightly fallen snow crunched loudly beneath her boots as she stepped forward towards him. The ghost of an amused expression rested against the curves of her lips, but Eleana could not bring herself to jest at such a time. "How could I forget? You did not say anything to me for a number of breaths," she began with a temperate tone. She took another step and then another. "I almost thought you had lost your wits until I realized that it was I who had lost mine. Before we both knew it, we were lost to the world and all that remained in my sights was you. Who could have blamed me when you looked at me the way that you did that day?"

It had been snowing and the two of them had returned from an errand in Wintertown to gather some needed supplies. The mood for the majority of the day had been untroubled and unhurried, the two fledglings enjoying the company of the other. However, it had become glaring that the growing wolf's mind had grown occupied. Their conversations lead them into the godswood upon the return from Winterfell where the pair had collided in a storm of words, sentiment, and the truth that what they had been feeling for years had not gone unnoticed. It was silenced only by the lure of their attraction and finally the brush of their own lips, though Eleana had never been able to part ways with Robb's unfettered look. She doubted she would forget it for as long as she lived.

"And the way that the dim light of the hearth emphasized that same stare when you slipped into my bed. It was as disciplined and wild as you, but now," her lips found the edges of his unshaven cheek as she wrapped her arms around him to pull him closely against her. The draft did little to dull the sudden warmth as his body found hers beneath the trees. "Now it appears consumed by the tragedy that has struck your great house."

Grief lay heavy upon his countenance. The emotion lumbered within the confines of Robb's focus and his unruly mane. He had surely tried to make amends for it by presenting himself with an impeccable mantle of furs around his shoulders, but it was easy to see that he was a man fragmented by the loss of his mother. Perhaps others who did not know the son of Eddard Stark would have seen the man who would one day carry much of the North's burdens and be responsible for holding the northern most houses together, but Eleana Arryn saw him for far more than that; he would be stalwart simply because his position required and expected it.

"I'm so sorry, Robb," she said after a long pause. Her mind wandered and it had been many a moon since she had been given the good fortune of finding him within her arms again. "My letters could not begin to express my unhappiness that such a thing has befallen your family. I will hardly dare speak to how you must be feeling, though I sincerely hope that you will set your grievances upon my shoulders." She pulled away enough to look at him. His face hovered mere inches from her own. "You tell me that you need me and I am here for you, whatever you ask of me. Tell me what I can do. If you need to retire from this place, we will go wherever you want and do whatever you like. If you don't want to be alone, all you need to do is allow me leave to be with you." With her rueful expression lingering upon the contours of his face, she held him firmly within her sights. Her voice was like silk, delicate and soothing amidst the cold winter wind. "Let me come to you this evening. I may not be able to fully heal your wounds in a single night, but I can ease this discomfort. You have been alone for long enough."

Robb 830 words The Godswood
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Robb Stark
 Posted: Jul 6 2016, 04:17 PM
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Robb Stark
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YEARS OLD
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.lisa:first-letter { float: left; padding: 5px; font-family: pinyon script; text-transform: uppercase; color: #222; font-size: 35px; }.lisalyric { padding: 10px; max-height: 110px; overflow: hidden; font-family: calibri; line-height: 100%; text-transform: uppercase; font-size: 7px; letter-spacing: 3px; text-align: justify; border-bottom: #eee solid 1px; color: #eee; }.lisalyric:first-letter { float: left; padding: 5px; font-family: pinyon script; text-transform: uppercase; font-size: 35px; color: #e5d2bc; }.lisalyric:first-line { color: #e5d2bc; }You came and lay a cold compress upon the mess I'm in. Words are wind, his father had always said. Robb had always seen truth in that, also, but he came to doubt it now, listening to Eleana speak. Her words were poetry; as they had always been, in truth. Robb listened intently, his eyes never leaving hers for a second as she recalled the past with such verbosity and eloquence as he hadn't heard in a cycle or more. Her voice washed over his senses and filled him with warmth; a peaceful, almost nostalgic feeling, even as she was sympathizing with his loss, reminding him again of all that he now lacked.And then she spoke of comfort… of healing his wounds. He shook his head and shut his eyes, clenching his jaw and struggling with the dual urges within him; he could almost hear his father's admonishing voice: You are promised to another. You're a Stark. We honor our promises, Robb. But then another, equally passionate voice joined his father's - his own voice, a timbre distinct from his father's, filled with longing that his father would never understand. What good does our honor do when we our enemies have none? What good is duty when we might be poisoned or bled in the night? I am alive. Who knows for how long? Am I not allowed to try to escape from the misery of circumstance from time to time? Am I not entitled to be my own man now? The argument proceedd without mercy between his temples. There was no victor; there never was, just as there was no way to reconcile the dilemma he faced. And yet it was the latter voice, the one that cried for solace and comfort, that spoke in the end, after a long hard silence. Robb's eyes were still closed as he responded: "I cannot ask you to my bed, and yet I cannot refuse you should you come. How can I? You are a part of me, and the other part is powerless…" He didn't have to move far to place his mouth on hers, and the hunger with which he kissed her was bare for the gods to see. The Young Wolf had been starved of her taste for so long, of the sensation of her tongue on his, that it had haunted his dreams - at least since that short meeting on the Strange Isles. He felt almost whole again for a moment, as his impatient breathing mingled with hers. He held her as close to him as he could, his chin nestling in her furs as they kissed.He should have felt some shame: shame at his unkempt state, shame at tasting his cousin in the godswood while his betrothed was so close at hand within the Keep. But he did not; instead, he broke the kiss and spoke: "I need you. Only you." If the old gods could see them, the old gods made no attempt to intervene.
^
Eleana Arryn
 Posted: Jul 8 2016, 06:53 PM
Quote
Eleana Arryn
is currently Offline.
"I wanted water but I walk through the fire. If this is what it takes to take me even higher then I'll come through when the world keeps testing me."
age
18 YEARS OLD
job
LADY, HOPEFUL HEIR TO THE VALE
Valemen
group
LYSTHEA
alias
2 secrets
posts


Perhaps I should not be asking or pressing the matter, her thoughts uttered when she was met with the gloom that followed the request to remain beside of him that evening. She should have truly known better than to propose a scandal between both of their houses, especially given Robb's betrothed state with herself remaining unspoken for, unmarried, and unsullied (or so everyone thought). "I'm sorry," came the apology almost immediately, her own sense of penitence finding its way into her own inclinations and silencing them. Would she have hesitated if she were in his position?

Eleana waited, the lull of her own pondering doing its own work at muting the young woman into quiet. But powerless? She found herself surprised at his statement as he had just as much sway over her. The Young Wolf did not even allow her an opportunity to respond again before his mouth settled intensely upon her own. The gentle moan that followed close behind it was hardly in protest however as Eleana reciprocated his fervency, their appetites mingling as they had countless times before. She yearned silently for it to always be this way; the method in which he kissed her now felt like home, a powerful reminder that she had found a place so sheltered and happy in his arms that nearly starved her half to death by the time she was granted another opportunity to see him again.

His sweetness only lingered against her tongue when he finally pulled away from her and that too was another reminder that their time together was bound and narrow in scope, if not somehow misguided. What felicity the pair shared came and went like the tide and waves that battered the Fingers. Eleana knew that whatever time was granted them would need to carry substance as neither of them had a choice in choosing their own mirth. Their time appeared numbered. Her father and mother were certainly never given the luxury and it was plainly obvious as they failed to carry the spark that took fire between the two young heirs beneath the weirwood. Duty carried far more weight and there would be little surprise if Eleana and Robin would be forced to follow suit.

"Is there ever any doubt that I am yours?" She inquired softly, her gloved hands finding their way from his neck to rest against the sterling emblems of House Stark along Robb's tunic. "I would do anything for you. We can discuss everything. Whatever you may need, it's yours, even if that need requires a visit to your chambers with very little on." Her voice turned playful, a mischievous smile now finding the corners of her lips. "Does that mean that I have an open invitation to come to you after nightfall? I will be gone before the sun rises with no trace that I was even there, unless you consider the imprints left behind that no one can see." Their lovemaking had been passionate and had certainly done due diligence to leave behind memories as well as impressions not so easily concealed before the coming of daylight.

Robb 532 words The Godswood
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Robb Stark
 Posted: Jul 9 2016, 08:57 AM
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Robb Stark
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.lisa:first-letter { float: left; padding: 5px; font-family: pinyon script; text-transform: uppercase; color: #222; font-size: 35px; }.lisalyric { padding: 10px; max-height: 110px; overflow: hidden; font-family: calibri; line-height: 100%; text-transform: uppercase; font-size: 7px; letter-spacing: 3px; text-align: justify; border-bottom: #eee solid 1px; color: #eee; }.lisalyric:first-letter { float: left; padding: 5px; font-family: pinyon script; text-transform: uppercase; font-size: 35px; color: #e5d2bc; }.lisalyric:first-line { color: #e5d2bc; }You came and lay a cold compress upon the mess I'm in. A cold, bracing wind suddenly forced its way through the godswood, whispering around Robb and Eleana as the leaves rustled and the branches of the trees shifted ever so slightly, before returning to their rightful position. They echoed Robb's restless mind as he considered his own place in the icy North. With his mother gone, who knew what his father might do? The only thing certain was that Robb would be Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North some day. But what kind of lord, what kind of warden would he make? The North needed strong Starks to fulfill this role; it always had. Was he strong enough? Did his love for Eleana, and his inability to resist her, make him weak?Their kiss seared these thoughts from his mind like hot iron, sweeping through and cleansing his senses of everything except his precious Ella: her scent, her taste, the feel of her flesh pressed against his. He wanted more but had to relent for now. Every inch of him feared what might happen to her if his father, or her father, or - seven forbid - Lyra Mormont should decide to visit the godswood at that very moment and stumble upon their indiscretion. When the dust settled, if it settled, they might never see each other again; hence the need for the utmost secrecy and care with every kiss, every touch, every glance even. They were not children anymore, and wouldn't get away with children's excuses.His eyes met hers as their kiss ended and creases knotted his brow as he recalled her apology, which he'd interrupted with his lips. "I've said it before, I'll say it again now: don't apologise to me, Ella. There is nothing to forgive here. If I wanted you to stop, I'd ask... and I never want you to stop," he said, pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. He glanced over her shoulder at the weirwood tree then, which merely glared back at him, seemingly impassively. Robb's tone was serious. He seemed to grow more stoic with every passing day; his mother used to say that her husband, his father, was just the same.Robb granted Eleana a small smirk in response to her teasing, and after a long pause replied: "You can wear what you like up to the door, but once you pass the treshold I can't promise it will stay on. Quite the opposite, in fact." He kissed her again, more briefly this time but with every bit as much passion, his hand cupping under her chin gently but intently. He'd always kissed her like that - as if she might run away at any point. Robb had never been an insecure or jealous boy - he'd had the lion's share of female attention at Winterfell, after all, being the prince heir and being blessed with the best features of both the Stark and Tully sides of the family - but on this one subject he was intensely possessive: Eleana. She simply belonged to him, and he to her."And yes, that means you can come to me after nightfall," he said, pulling back from her and bracing as the air grew somewhat colder. "Like last time - remember? Jory's men will be finishing their posts around dusk, so wait until after you hear the iron gates shutting and the men are dispersed. Perhaps bring a letter in case anyone sees you. You can say the maester is tired and instructed you to deliver it."
^
Eleana Arryn
 Posted: Jul 14 2016, 07:13 AM
Quote
Eleana Arryn
is currently Offline.
"I wanted water but I walk through the fire. If this is what it takes to take me even higher then I'll come through when the world keeps testing me."
age
18 YEARS OLD
job
LADY, HOPEFUL HEIR TO THE VALE
Valemen
group
LYSTHEA
alias
2 secrets
posts


His reprimand had caused one of Eleana's chestnut brows to lift out of a sense of discontent if not annoyance. It had been a number of months since they had seen one another last and though their letters confirmed their apparent undiminished adoration, the young woman could only be so certain that her greatest threat had not somehow penetrated the heart of her lover. It was only until Robb's mouth had found hers again, a brief but altogether powerful easement, that she remained silent and felt the tension in her shoulders cease a degree. His instructions hardly fell on deaf ears.

"I'll have enough time to pass by unnoticed," she stated with a decisive nod. Eleana was no fool and had watched the wardens who guarded the large keep surrounding the guest house well. Their patrol was cyclical and routine, and some men were wiser than others, if not slower. She stood slightly shorter than her counterpart, but was adept and resourceful enough to know that she required significantly better explanation for visiting Robb's chambers than the supposed words of a local maester who could contradict her story, and that was presuming she would be apprehended at all. "All I request is that you keep a steady eye upon your chamber door or shall I just slip inside as you did when you came to me?"

The door to the guest lodgings she had inhabited had not been locked that night of the harvest celebrations. Eleana hadn't anticipated anyone coming into her room once she had retired for the evening, least of all the young heir to Winterfell who had managed to slink inside behind her. "Seven hells, did anyone see you?" The pull of her hand around his wrist had only lured him deeper beyond the doorway as she had stood before him, her body pressing slightly against his when she reached behind him to bolt the door and ensuring that no one would see the pair together in such a suspect state. "Haven't we done enough?" Came Eleana's murmur finally that one evening. Her figure, however, made no move to stray far from his own, contradicting her directive with such glaring transparency that Robb had only needed to say four words in response: "No, not nearly enough."

The reflection was easily scattered with the rise of the gust between them in the Godswood. Gone was the recollection of the glow of his skin upon hers to be replaced once more with the inflamed canopy of trees around them. "I've quite forgotten how still it is here," Eleana noted as she took a deep breath of the winter air. It filled her lungs with a numbing intensity she had only felt in the north. "Much like you. You've been quiet and closed off. Not that I blame you given the current state of affairs, but you haven't entirely informed me of how you've been faring throughout these past weeks."

Robb had granted them some some space when he had pulled away from her and she made use of it easily as she stood across from him, her polar blue gaze resting on his slightly disordered state. He was still as becoming, as capricious as she knew he could be, but he had grown pensive and stern, even more so than he was before; the wolf was becoming a man and Catelyn Stark's fate had only appeared to propel that forward as he would have his own challenges to face now that she was gone. There would be no one to protect him now or to defend his mistakes, and the North had many enemies left to contend with. The thought left a chill down Eleana's spine that had nothing to do with the cold.

"Has there been no revelation as per who may have done this?"

Robb 653 words The Godswood
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