[Ever since coming here, ever since waking up in Asgard after being stabbed through the heart, Robb's become deeply familiar with the feeling of uncertainty, much as he wishes he wasn't. It's still there, even as Bran grabs his hand and pulls himself upright, even as Robb relaxes and gives a breath of relief--this isn't the first time Bran has been here, after all.

And Robb is a little afraid that he won't stay for long this time either.

But he doesn't voice that fear, instead just giving Bran a nod.]

Aye, they did. [A pause, as he's silently counting up the months, then:] That was six months ago, and I've been here since.

[His heart sinks, and for a moment it shows--he's explained this before, to Bran himself, to one too many people who've left then come back with no memory. And worst of all is the niggling feeling that Bran might not know of what happened to Robb, this time.]

Sometimes they take people from a time in the past, or the future. [Don't ask him how it happens, he has no clue outside of "magic".] I was in the South six months ago, but before I came here-- [He stops. He wants to keep it for another day, wants to keep his silence on it once more, but he can't do that now, can he? That'd be denying Bran something he has the right to know about. He breathes out, eyes briefly glancing away from Bran's--an obvious sign of guilt.]

I have a house here. I'll carry you there and we can talk more. [A breath, then he looks back, and when he next speaks, his voice is a little softer and sadder than usual.] I've missed you, Bran.

[He lifts Bran up without much effort, holding him the way he did in the wolfswood, after Theon saved Bran's life with an arrow (and he doesn't miss the irony in that, and he pushes the thought away as soon as it's come into his head). He doesn't answer right away, wondering how best to phrase it.]

What's the last thing you remember, before you came here? [He settles for that, instead, trying to gauge when Bran must be, and trying to deflect as well.]

[He knows, then, and feels a cold, heavy weight settle in the pit of his stomach at the mention of their home, now a burned and blackened shell of what it used to be.]

I know about what happened at Winterfell. I heard. [How Theon took it, then put it to the torch when he couldn't keep it. For the longest time he'd thought the man he'd once called his best friend had killed his brothers as well, but now he knows differently.

There's a small comfort, in knowing that at least his brothers had escaped.]

Aye, Bran, I know.

[Words can't say how relieved he'd felt, knowing that his brothers were alive. They also can't say how worried he is now, for his youngest brother and his sisters--with Winterfell burned, and Westeros still at war when he died, there's nowhere left for them to go to be safe.

There's still a war even here, in Asgard, but if you were to ask Robb he would take knowing where Bran is here than not knowing where he is in Westeros.]

[Knowing that Bran is with the Reeds takes a weight off Robb's shoulders as well. The crannogmen, he knows he can trust, and he knows--even from the one time he saw Bran's companions--that his brother is in safe hands. At least, for the time being.]

I was at the Twins, [he says at last,] for Uncle Edmure's wedding. It--didn't end well. [By which he means they were all slaughtered, but he'll save that part for when they're at his house.]

[I died. He can't make himself say it, not here, not now, so instead he swallows the words.]

I'll tell you when we've arrived. [He's evading, he knows that, stealing as much time as he can without talking about it. He doesn't even want to think about it, so please stop nagging him Bran.]

[He's quiet for the rest of the way to their house in Odin district, but finally they're there--the presence of Nymeria napping outside and the remains of a rabbit nearby are something of a dead giveaway, and Grey Wind goes to join his sister in sleep. (Robb will clean the carcass up later.) Robb nudges the door open and steps inside.

For a place inhabited by a wildling and a boy king with two wolves to take care of, it doesn't really look as messy as you'd expect, save the faint traces of muddy pawprints on the floor that Robb hasn't quite managed to get around to cleaning off just yet. He sets Bran down on the couch, then runs off to the kitchen and returns moments later with two steaming hot mugs full of coffee, setting both of them down on the table and pulling up a chair of his own.

He's quiet, trying to figure out just what to say now. He's done this before, sat someone down and told them of his death, and it should be easier by now, to say it. But it isn't, it never is, and he has to swallow the lump in his throat before he says anything at all.]

I lost the war. [He can't make himself meet Bran's eyes, and instead looks down at his cup of coffee.]

[If there's anything Robb's learned in his time in Asgard, if there's anything at all that he learned from the Red Wedding that's been driven home by Asgard, it's that he's far too breakable. Maybe he's already broken, just not in the same way as Bran.

His crown sits in his bedside drawer, far from the living room, and yet Robb reaches a hand up to his curls, as if to adjust the missing crown.]

I married someone else. [Jeyne Westerling, and her name, along with a few stray details about her and their marriage, is the only thing he can remember about her. The price of coming back to life more than once, he supposes.] The Freys didn't take it so well. They withdrew their support, and to win them back and make amends we proposed another deal--Uncle Edmure would wed Roslin Frey at the Twins, then we'd head back North to take it back from the ironmen.

[He looks briefly up at Bran, an apology written clear across his face even as he looks back down and continues, his tone carefully flat.]

Walder Frey had turned his cloak, though. So did Roose Bolton. I didn't know it till after the wedding, when Uncle Edmure and his wife had left for their bedding. [He lets out a shaky breath, and when he next speaks it's obvious that he's trying his best to stay calm:] It was--It was a slaughter, Bran, and--and--

[Jaime Lannister sends his regards.]

The last thing I remember, Roose Bolton stabbed me through the heart. [It's out there now, laid bare for Bran in a rush of words, and Robb reaches up to wipe his tears away before they can fall. He can't even bring himself to look up and meet Bran's gaze.] Then I woke up in Asgard, and I've been here ever since.

[His gaze snaps up at last, surprise and hurt flashing across his face.]

Do you really think I would lie to you on this, Bran? [It's hurt and harsh, for all that he's struggling to keep himself calm. You know me better than that, he doesn't say.] I'm sorry, I failed you, [as much good as those two words will do them both now] but I swear, I'm not lying to you. Not about this.

[He can see Bran's shoulders shake, and knowing that he caused that hurts worse, somehow, than a blade to the heart. (And he knows how that feels all too well.)

He looks back down at the coffee cup again. You didn't fail me, Bran tells him, and he thinks, but I did.]

I'm sorry. [He says again, still looking down at his untouched coffee.] I left to bring our father and sisters back, and instead-- [He cuts himself off, lets out a shaky breath as he rubs away his own tears. What a mess he's made of ruling.]