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[needsnoheadsman]

Hello, you've reached--[sounds of fumbling and muttering before Robb's voice comes in:] Robb Stark--leave a message after the beep.

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[needsnoheadsman]

[Oh. That.

He could go with a hundred excuses, say he'd been waiting for the best time, say he was going to let them get settled in first before saying anything about his death, but in the end, what it all boils down to is that he just--can't talk about it, not without dragging up memories he would much rather bury deep. Dying the way he did (with the Rains of Castamere ringing in his ears and his mother pleading for his life and arrows in his chest and a sword through his heart--) leaves a great gaping wound, one that keeps opening, keeps bleeding.]

I'd hoped to tell them before you did. [Quit evading, Stark.] They'd only just arrived, and I was saving the news for when they were more settled. [Half-true. He doesn't say that talking about his own death is--difficult, to say the least.]

[bruxisms]

If it had not been me, it would have been the Kingslayer, or any other individual of Westeros who yet lives.

[ His frown continues to deepen. The boy was Ned Stark's son, that much was true. But, when it came to such matters, there was hardly room for kindness.

Only the truth. ]

There is never a perfect time for the truth, Robb Stark. It is best that you face it, rather than laying it on the shoulders of others.

[needsnoheadsman]

I know that. [It's said somewhat harshly, and he reins himself in for the next part, sounding regretful.] Better now than I did before.

[He tells him to face it, like it's easy. Like Robb didn't see his mother pleading for his life, like he didn't see his bannermen cut down in front of him, like the wedding and that damn song doesn't still haunt his nightmares, sometimes. What do you know of that, Your Grace? he thinks. What do you know of death?]

And if you were dead, Your Grace? [There's only the briefest of pauses before the title, and he keeps his tone polite, composed.] If you somehow returned from death, and your daughter or your wife didn't know or couldn't remember--would you find it so easy to face the truth and tell them?

[...who is he kidding, this is Stannis Baratheon. He would, and Robb knows that much about him.]

[bruxisms]

If I were dead, I would not hide the truth so easily. to do so brings naught but ruin upon us all.

[ Certainly, he knew that lesson well enough. Asgard had brought him far too many hard truths that he might have been more than happy to deny.

But, nevertheless, they were fact. And there was no escaping them, not for him and not for Robb Stark. ]