That night, after the plates had been cleared, Robb carried Bran up to bed himself. Grey Wind led the way, and Summer came close behind. His brother was strong for his age, and Bran was as light as a bundle of rags, but the stairs were steep and dark, and Robb was breathing hard by the time they reached the top.
He put Bran into bed, covered him with blankets, and blew out the candle. For a time Robb sat beside him in the dark. Bran wanted to talk to him, but he did not know what to say. “We’ll find a horse for you, I promise,” Robb whispered at last.
“Are they ever coming back?” Bran asked him.
“Yes,” Robb said with such hope in his voice that Bran knew he was hearing his brother and not just Robb the Lord. “Mother will be home soon. Maybe we can ride out to meet her when she comes. Wouldn’t that surprise her, to see you ahorse?” Even in the dark room, Bran could feel his brother’s smile. “And afterward, we’ll ride north to see the Wall. We won’t even tell Jon we’re coming, we’ll just be there one day, you and me. It will be an adventure.”
“An adventure,” Bran repeated wistfully. He heard his brother sob. The room was so dark he could not see the tears on Robb’s face, so he reached out and found his hand. Their fingers twined together.
”Bran, Chapter 25, A Game of Thrones (via odetotheponds)
No thought Bran, it is the Nightfort, and this is the end of the world. In the mountains, all he could think of was reaching the Wall and finding the three-eyed crow, but now that they were here he was filled with tears. The dream he’d had…the dream Summer had had…

Sansa thought of the games she would play as a young child, always insisting that Robb joined in. He could never refuse and so he would be the brave knight to her captured princess, with Arya often playing the villain. The rescue attempt would always end with a sword fight while Sansa cheered Robb on, and when he won he would pick her up and spin her around while she laughed happily, kissing his cheek and declaring him the bravest knight in the seven kingdoms.
Though they were silly games of pretend, still Sansa waited in King’s Landing with the hope that Robb would be her knight just one more time.

The Red Wedding, the smallfolk are calling it.They swear Lord Frey had the boy’s head hacked off, sewed the head of his direwolf in it’s place, and nailed a crown about his ears.
He grabbed the edge of the table and forced himself to stand.

[…] and by the time it was done both living and dead were drenched in blood. Robb flung the polaxe down in disgust, and turned wordless to the heart tree. He stood shaking with his hands half-clenched and the rain running down his cheeks. Gods forgive him, Catelyn prayed in silence. He is only a boy, and he had no other choice.

Outside the thunder crashed and boomed, so loud it sounded as if the castle were coming down about their ears. Is this the sound of a kingdom falling? Catelyn wondered.