Authors Notes

Hey-oh back again. here is another chapter. Thanks to everyone who follow ,fav, review, and thanks for reading.

Thirteen

While Robb was out searching for Nymeria, with Arya and Theon; Sansa and herself had gone out to Harrentown for the day. Accompanying them was two of her handmaidens, Mira Forrester and Sera Flowers. Along with the handmaidens was an escort of six Stark bannermen. Among those loyal men was Harrion Karstark, the eldest son and heir of Lord Rickard Karstark, the lord of Karhold. He was a tall, broadly built man, with a thick beard and fierce features. He reminded her much of her brother Garlan, though not near as handsome. He wore heavy chainmail overtop a leather surcoat, the white sunburst of House Karstark displayed proudly on his chest and shield.

She had put on one of her favorite gowns this morning. A low cut, backless teal dress made of the finest silks with roses embroidered on the top. It was one she wore many times in King's Landing. Though when she stepped outside, she had regretted it. The winds were started to get a bit colder in the Riverlands, growing up in Highgarden the cold was something foreign to her, so even the slightest drop in temperature was noticed. She took her brides cloak with her for the warmth, and she hugged it around her as she walked. She already knew she would be wearing it a lot more now, not for style, but for necessity.

During the journey Margaery had wanted to get to know some of the Stark's principal bannermen. She had short conversations with a few of them to try and assess their character, along with gauging how they viewed her. She already knew most of the northern lords didn't like her very much. Some were pleasant enough to her, especially those of House Karstark. Garlan had actually done her a favor at the wedding spending time with them, as Harrion Karstark had volunteered himself to lead their protection escort today. They were all very nice and respectful to her, not once showing any malcontent. House Manderly also showed their respect to her. Lord Wyman Manderly was kind, and had made her laugh with his jokes. He had to ride on one of the carriages because he was too large to fit on a horse. She made a joke that her father Mace would soon have the same problem as he. She could see he was sharp, and quick witted, but played the fool to lull others to sleep.

She got to know the rest of his family as well. She had short conversations with his two sons Wylis, and Wendel, along with Wylis's wife Leona. Their two young girls Winafred, and Wylla were also in their company. The young one Wylla was cute, Margaery thought her dyed green hair was adorable, and both sisters were very sweet. She could see Wylla was being sincere, but Winafred had been far more facetious. The girl couldn't hide the jealously she held in her eyes when she looked at her. It would seem more than a few northern girls had their dreams crushed now that the heir to the North was married.

She had thought House Manderly would be of those who wouldn't like her. House Manderly was once of the Reach. They were driven out by house Gardner, the old Kings of the Reach. House Stark gave them refuge, lands, and titles, in exchange for fealty.

Most lords however, didn't like her too much. They hid their distaste while Robb was nearby. When he wasn't, she saw their scowls return. None made their distaste more clear than the women of Bear Island. They all seemed to have a permanent scowl on their face whenever she was in their vicinity. Dacey Mormont had nearly "accidentally" bumped her off her horse Sunrise on the Kingsroad. The woman didn't even apologize she just said "be more careful next time petals."Margaery had silently dubbed them The Bitches of Bear Island.

She knew parts of the story about Jorah Mormont and Lynese Hightower. How he had won her hand at a tourney. They then moved to Essos after a few years, fleeing Eddard Stark's justice. Robb had filled her in on more of the details surrounding it. Jorah had sold poachers into slavery to afford her expensive tastes, staining House Mormont's honorable name. She mused Lynese couldn't take the desolation of North, not after growing up in a place like Oldtown. Margaery guessed that the Mormonts saw her as another southern harlot, now trying to change their future liege lord. But the difference between her and Lynese, was that she knew what she was getting herself into, or at least thought she did. The North will never be like the Reach, there was no point in trying to pretend that it was.

The company had been upset by the forced march, for Robb had made them march all day and well into the night. Not allowing anyone to rest for more than a few hours. She knew why, he wanted to get out of the Crownlands as quickly as possible. Some of the northern lords blamed the march on her. Though she mused that they would blame the rain on her as well, just to give them a reason to blame her about something. That was one reason why Margaery had come out to Harrentown today. She knew of ways on how to mend some bridges, even if she hadn't done anything to actually deserve the hostility herself.

The other reason for coming to town was because of Sansa. The girl had flowered this morning in her bedchambers. She was now officially a woman. The news had caught fire amongst the lords in their company, and Margaery thought it best to get her away from the curious and wondering eyes of the castle; and also to try and help her cope with it. Going through that was stressful enough for a young girl, and she didn't need to hear everyone gossiping about it over her shoulder.

They were walking through the overgrown, grassy streets of the markets in Harrentown. They were looking at the various things merchants were selling from their stalls, all of them were lined up besides the lake, like ducks in a row. Vendors were selling all kinds of goods, breads, fruits, vegetables, sweet cakes, meats, furs, and fresh fish caught from the God's Eye. Many called out to them as they walked by, they waved their hands at them trying to get their attention to by something from their stall, and she only smiled politely at those who tried.

In the center of the town there was a small square, with benches and trees surrounding a statue of Aegon the Conqueror. Aegon was holding the pommel of his sword Blackfyre into the ground, and staring in the direction of Harrenhal. A monument to Aegon's liberation of the Riverlands from Harren the Black's enslavement. She was surprised that this had not been torn down, it was magnificent, and it would have been a shame if it had been.

Behind the statue there was a large building with a forge burning outside on the left hand side. It was the blacksmith's shop. The building was surrounded by a grey stone wall that reached her abdomen. Next to the forge there was a tall man with long white hair hammering away on an anvil. This environment reminded her a little bit of Reach, the hustle and bustle of a town like this she had become accustomed to, and the familiarity was welcomed after being on the Kingsroad for the past week. The town was busier than she thought it would be. Although here it was on a much smaller scale, and wasn't near as grand as Oldtown, but what truly was?

"How are you feeling Sansa? You've scarcely said a word all day," she asked her.

Sansa was still a little dazed from this morning. She was looking at the ground for most of their stroll through the town, completely unaware of the people parting for them, while others pointed at them with big awestruck eyes as they walked through the crowded streets.

"I didn't think there would be so much blood," she said picking her head up, and turning towards her.

Margaery saw her sheets this morning. It was bloodier than her own, but it wasn't the worst one she's ever seen. Her cousin Elinor had that honor, if honor was the right word. Elinor had been a handmaiden in her service, but not any longer. She didn't want to come North with her. Elinor came to King's Landing for the wedding, but wanted to return to Highgarden afterwards. She couldn't really blame her for not wanting to come, and wasn't angry with her.

Margaery linked her arm through Sansa's, continuing their stroll through the markets. "It's different for every girl I suppose. But you don't need to feel bad, or awkward, it's a natural thing all of us women must go through."

"Was yours just as bloody?" Sansa asked.

"No, but you know my cousin Elinor? Hers was terrible. I remember they had to throw away her sheets, and even give her a new mattress because they couldn't get the stains out. She also had terrible bowel movements all week."

"That's awful, she must have been terribly embarrassed." Sansa said.

"She was, some of the servants started to snigger, and make horrid jokes about it behind her back. I made sure they no longer served her after that." She said, giving Sansa a dark and foreboding grin.

Sansa stopped walking and turned towards her abruptly. "You didn't...?"

Margaery laughed. She makes it too easy. "Have them killed? For making jokes? Of course not! I'm not a monster. They just no longer serve in Highgarden. No, I had my father send them away to Brightwater keep. Now they can make their jokes about the Florents."

"Oh," Sansa said smiling back at her. "You must not like the Florents very much then." She said with a laugh.

"There is a long rivalry between House Florent and House Tyrell, going all the way back to the days of Aegon. House Florent feels that they have a better claim to Highgarden than we do. They have always been resentful because Aegon chose us as his Wardens of the South." She said.

"And they still resent you for that? After all this time?" Sansa asked incredulously.

Margaery nodded her head at her. "Oh yes, not all of the lords of the Reach are all that fond of House Tyrell it is true. I know it is much different from what you are used to. All of the Stark bannermen seem to be very loyal," she said turning around towards Harion Karstark with a smile. He kept a serious expression but bowed his head slightly to her. Though she was sure some still had to harbor some resentment, not everyone bends the knee with a smile.

When Margaery had found out she was going to marry a Stark, she spent many nights studying the history of their house. She knew all about the wars that the Starks had with the old Red Kings of the Dreadfort. She noticed quite early on that no one from House Bolton was in the company of northerners.

Sansa put her head back down, and sniffed her nose slightly. Margaery eyed her, pulling their linked arms a bit closer together. "Is something else the matter Sansa?" Margaery asked slowly. There was obviously something else troubling the girl. She had walked right past the sweet cakes stand, not even turning to look at it once.

"I was supposed to marry the Prince after I flowered. The Queen talked about it all the time. She said we would get married as soon as I was able to have his children," Sansa said with a far and away look in her eye.

Margaery turned and smiled sadly at her. "I know how much you wanted to marry him. But you may end up liking whoever your father betroths you to more. It worked out well for me," she said. It was obvious the girl was still stuck on the prince, and Margaery couldn't really blame her. The idea of becoming Queen had been in the girl's head for over a year now. To have that suddenly taken away wasn't something that was going to go away overnight.

Sansa put a finger to her eyes, wiping the forming tears at the corner of her eyes. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to make a scene about it. I can't do much about it now can I?"

Margaery smiled and looped her arm in hers again, continuing their stroll. At least she's starting to come to terms with it. "It's quite alright sister. We all need a good cry every now and then. You know what I think will do wonders for you?" Margaery asked suddenly stopping their stroll after catching the shop to their right.

"What?" Sansa asked.

"We buy you a new dress! Come! Let's see what they have!" Margaery said happily pulling Sansa's hand into the tailor shop.

"I knew it would be more fun with you around sister." Sansa said with a soft laugh, wiping the last of the tears from her eyes.

They spent the next hour or so looking at the different types of fabrics in the shop. The tailor here in Harrentown didn't have much of a variety, though they all got new gowns anyway. Margaery paid the tailor for herself, Sansa, and for her two handmaidens, Mira, and Sera. Both girls were young and pretty. Sera was a bastard daughter of a maid who had served her grandmother. It had been quite the controversy, and the girl's mother had shamed her family by getting pregnant while still unmarried. Though her grandmother kept her on anyway, and let that bastard daughter into her service as well. The fact that Sera was a bastard had been quite the secret to those outside of the family. A bastard girl serving Lady Margery of House Tyrell would raise more than a few eyebrows. Sera's mother owed everything to her grandmother, and thus created unquestioned loyalty, and that was not something that could be bought easily. Mira, Margaery's other handmaiden was a noble northerner from House Forrester, a smaller House but well respected. They met long before Margaery was ever betrothed to Robb.

The girl's mother had arranged for her to serve her in Highgarden a few years past. Margaery liked the Forrester girl, she was smart, and the northern girl had quickly adapted to the lifestyle of Highgarden almost seamlessly. Intelligence is always something of value, and it is not the easiest thing to find. Mira had been more excited than anyone else when she found out about Margaery marrying Robb Stark, although that may have been because she would see her family again. House Forrester was among the bannermen in their escort of northerners. Rodrik Forrester, Mira's eldest brother and heir to Ironwrath was another man in their escort today.

After they left the tailor shop with their new gowns they continued their stroll through the town, looking at the things. Mira, and Sera were giggling happily behind them talking to Rodrik and the other guards with them.

She wasn't paying attention to what they were talking about however, she was more concerned about finding the place she had originally intended to go here in Harrentown. Margaery looked around, smiling when they had finally arrived. She had overheard the townsfolk talking that this was the place to go if one wanted a drink. "Ah, here we are," she said pulling Sansa along with her. They came to a large property resting beside the lake. There were two buildings of modest size, and it was somewhat set apart from the rest of the town. The one building was a small cottage resting besides the lake. It had a small vegetable garden on the right, and a chicken coop on the left, all of which was surrounded by a small picket fence. In front of the cottage there was a small dock, with a single row boat tied to keep it from drifting off.

The other building was a bit larger and was set apart from the cottage. Above the entrance to the larger building there was a sign that read, "The Fair Maid."

"Ah, here we are." She said, pulling Sansa along with her.

One of their guards held the door open as they made their way into the building. Two guards waited outside while Harrion Karstark, Rodrik Forrester, and the rest accompanied them into the building. Inside there was a single bar counter that stretched out across most of the room. A few bar stools stood in front for patrons to sit along the counter. There was also a small dining are for people to sit at tables. Although today no one seemed to be thirsty. Behind the counter there were rows, upon rows, of barrels. She could only assume to be various types of wines, and ale.

Behind the counter there was a man stacking a barrel on top of another. His attention was on what he was doing, and he hadn't noticed them enter yet. He had a very handsome face and tanned olive skin. His long dark hair rested at his shoulders, and a thin dark mustache above his lips. She instantly recognized the man was Dornish, and she wasn't all that fond of the Dornish. The bad blood between the Tyrells and the Martells was ancient. Though she did like the way women were treated in Dorne, they had that going for them at least. If that were the case in the rest of the Seven Kingdoms, all would be better off. Women should be able to be the ones in charge. Men only think with their cocks, no wonder the world goes to hell so often.

She moved up in front of the counter and rested her hands on the wood. "Excuse me friend, what kind of wine do you have for sale?" She asked politely.

The merchant dropped the barrel he was holding when he heard her voice, and the barrel fell to the floor crushing his foot in the process.

"Seven Hells!" he yelled out, hopping up and down on one foot holding it in pain.

"Dammit woman! Don't you know not to sneak up on people like that!?" He barked loudly, turning his attention towards her while hopping up and down on one foot.

"Watch your tone dornishman! You're speaking to a member of House Stark!" Harrion Karstark exclaimed loudly with anger in his voice. He stepped forward with a hand on the pommel of his sword about ready to take it out from its scabbard.

Margaery put a hand on his shoulder to settle him down. "It's quite alright lord Karstark, we startled him is all. Isn't that right friend?" She said sweetly.

The wine merchant's eyes grew wide taking them all in, his eyes racing between everyone in his shop.

"Starks!? Here in my shop!?" he said in disbelief. He ran his hands through his long dark hair matting it down, trying to make himself neater, and more presentable.

"I had heard the Starks and Tullys had come to Harrenhal but I never thought... I'm terribly sorry, please forgive my rudeness my lady. Victor is my name, wine is my game! You want some yes?" He moved towards the back of his shop, knocking over various things, rummaging through one of his barrels. He carried over a large flagon from the back of his shop, and brought it back towards the counter in great haste. "You are in luck! I have a vintage from the salt shore, aged to perfection." He said placing the flagon on the table, pouring it into a smaller cup that stood on the counter. "Would you like a taste?" he asked.

"I'll try it," Sansa said happily.

Lord Karstark stepped forward again. "My Lady, no," he said eying the dornishman with suspicion, still with a hand on the pommel of his sword.

Victor rolled his eyes. "Is it the accent? Or the skin color that turns you off my fierce bearded friend?" Victor asked with amusement to Harrion before turning his attention back to herself and Sansa. "I promise it's no poison my lady. I don't think my wife would appreciate being a widow so far into her pregnancy. These strong men with you would certainly take my head if I were to do such a thing," he said with a laugh. He then poured the wine into the small cup, and took a sip himself. He opened his mouth wide after he was done to prove that he drank the whole thing down.

"Everyone says the Reach makes the best wine, I disagree. We Dornish make the best wine in all the Seven Kingdoms," he said.

Margaery smiled, she actually found him quite amusing, even if he was a dornishman. "I am from the Reach Victor, I would have to disagree with you on that account,"

Victor looked at her for a moment toying with the corner of his dark mustache. "You must be the Tyrell everyone's been talking about. They said you were a pretty one, but the stories do not do you justice my lady," he said kindly to her, before turning his attention towards Sansa, "And you my lady, why that hair color is spectacular!" He said kissing his fingers and blowing it out to her. "I swear, folks around these parts gossip worse than any I have ever known. I didn't believe it at first. The Starks and Tyrells getting married, who would have thought," he said shaking his head in disbelief, his accent thick, and heavy.

Sansa started to roam around the room, looking at all of the various paintings that hung on the wall. There was one of a joust, a man in all black defeating another in a white cape. There was another of a beautiful woman with dark hair, and big brown eyes. She was smiling brightly holding a small infant in her arms.

"Is that your wife?" Sansa asked, directing his attention to the painting.

Victor turned towards the painting and smiled. "Yes, and my daughter. That was made...gods what's it been? Near twenty years now? . . . How time flies,"

Margaery looked at him curiously. "If I may ask Victor. How does a man from Dorne end up owning a place like this here in the Riverlands?"

He looked past them at the Stark guards behind her, Margaery could tell he was hesitant to answer. He took a deep breath before answering her. "As a boy, I was a page in the service of Prince Rhaegar Targaryen." He paused when he noticed the reaction from the Stark men. They all took a step forward, gripping their swords tightly with their hands, but she put a hand up waving them off. They reluctantly obeyed her command.

She reassured him with a smile. "It's alright Victor, the war has long been over. The Tyrells fought for the Targaryens as well, now I'm married to a Stark. Best to let old wounds heal. Please continue."

He swallowed hard before beginning again. "Right...Well, I came with Prince Rhaegar, and princess Elia for the tourney at Harrenhal. When the tourney began, I bet the few silver stags I had on prince Rhaegar. Every day he kept winning, and everyday so did I. By the end of the tourney, I had won a small fortune. On the last night, I got very drunk, I was very young… I spent the night with the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. I instantly fell in love with her. Though I wasn't aware at the time, the girl I spent the night with just so happened to be the daughter of one Lord." Margaery smiled coyly to Sansa whose eyes went wide, and turned a little red.

"A fortnight, she tells me she's pregnant, and carrying my child. You can imagine Lord Whent's outrage when he found out his daughter had lost her maidenhead to a lowly bastard from Dorne. Lord Whent wanted my head, but Prince Rhaegar shielded me from his wrath. My Prince Rhaegar then released me from his service, "follow your heart." were the last words he ever spoke to me before he went off and..." He held closed his eyes, putting his head down towards the counter. He sniffed his nose once before quickly picking his head back up.

"Before he kidnapped my aunt, and then raped her." Sansa said with malice in her voice. Margaery looked at the girl with and raised eyebrow. Sansa was visibly angry with Victor. Her eyebrows were furrowed and her nose was twitching slightly. So, there is a wolf in her after all. Obviously Prince Rhaegar Targaryen wasn't the girls' favorite person.

Victor swallowed uncomfortably at her, pausing for a moment before he started again. "… I don't know what happened with all that my lady, truly. It shocked me as much as it did everyone else when I heard the news of that. I can't defend his actions for what he did to your aunt."

Margaery narrowed her eyes slightly at him. Why did she suddenly get the feeling that wasn't entirely the case? He had stuttered his words slightly as he spoke, backpedaling immediately like that had been a well-rehearsed story. There was something he wasn't telling them, but right here she could tell he wasn't going to say anything more about it.

"With my winnings, I bought this place for us. I married the girl and we've been here raising our little daughter, making, trading, and selling wine ever since. It's a simple life, but we live in peace," Victor said finishing his earlier story.

"Does Lady Whent ever come visit?" Sansa asked. That would be a no. Margaery thought to herself. What the girl did was a disgrace to her family. Marrying for love was ludicrous in the eyes of nobility. She didn't even want to think about what would have happened if she had actually run off with Hector like he had wanted her too. Perhaps in Dorne it was acceptable, though she wasn't very sure about that, many of their customs still sounded so strange to her.

"No, not once. Lady Whent has in all intents and purposes sworn us off. She doesn't acknowledge us she rather chooses to ignore our presence from behind those large castle walls of hers. Which works well enough for us, she leaves us alone, we leave her alone. We didn't move in until after Lord Walter Whent had passed away after the war. My family has been up to visit from Dorne a couple of times, and we go down to visit them every couple of years to when we have the coin. I suggested to my wife that we leave Harrentown all together from the start. We could live more comfortably in Dorne, but she loved the lake and didn't want to leave, so we stayed"

"Where are your wife and child now? I would like to meet them," Margaery asked with a smile.

Victor smiled sadly, "my wife Sarah is at home in our cottage. I'm sure you saw it on your way in. We're expecting another child soon, but she's been feeling under the weather lately. She doesn't have much strength these days. This pregnancy has been rough on her. My daughter, Elia, went out into the forest to find some herbs. She's been bedridden for weeks, she suffers from terrible headaches, and doesn't sleep well anymore. But money's been tight, and business has been slow. I have a recipe for a new wine that I know will be extraordinary, but the ingredients are expensive. I must have them shipped from Dorne, and logistic costs are outrageous. Makes me feel awful I can't do anything to help her. All I know how to do well is make wine. If something happens to her, I…" his voice broke, unable to finish his sentence, and he put his head down on the counter, wiping the tears forming at the corner of his eyes.

Margaery smiled sadly at him. It was no crime for a man to love his wife. "Perhaps I can be of some help."

Victor immediately picked his head back up, at the prospect of selling some of his wine. "Of course! What can I get for you! I do have something from the Arbor. A sixteen year old red, sweet as nectar."

She waved her hand in front of him to stop him from talking. "No, you misunderstand. I want... all of it." She said simply.

His mouth almost hit the floor. "All of it?" he said dumbfounded.

"Yes everything you have," She said turning around looking to her handmaidens. "Mira, Sera, will you be so kind?"

"Of course my lady," they said before bringing forward four large pouches of coins, and placing them on the counter-top. She was a Tyrell after-all and her father hadn't sent her North empty handed.

"I trust this is more than enough to cover the costs of the wine. I will also send a letter to the Citadel in Oldtown on your behalf. A healer should be here within a fortnight," Margaery said.

Victor had tears in his eyes, and he poured a portion of the gold coins onto the table, the sound of the gold clanged softly on the counter-top. He picked one up holding it up in the air, looking at it in wonder.

"Do we have a deal?" she asked, extending her hand out.

He shook it enthusiastically "Seven blessings on you my lady, truly. The gods themselves must have sent you to our humble home," he said with tears streaming down his face.

"Have the wine sent up to the castle by nightfall. If you need assistance, tell them I sent you," she said turning around going for the door. "It was a pleasure meeting you Victor. I'll pray to the mother for your wife's health."

The man put his hands together in a praying position, and bowed his head to her. "I will be forever thankfully humbled by your generosity my lady. May the gods bless you and your husband with many children."

"Should you finish this new flavor of wine of yours, please come and visit Winterfell, I would like to try it," She said smiling at him. She turned around and walked to the door. Two of their guards moved out the way for her, while one held the door open.

"I will! You will be the first to try it!" Victor said with joy. Margaery smiled and nodded at him before walking out the door.

"Good day Victor," Sansa said happily following behind her.

It may be a bit obvious, but the Northmen did like their liquor. A simple bribe to make some headway with these hardy people couldn't hurt. As insignificant as it may appear, every little bit of good will she would take. For not every battle need be won with steel.

"That was so nice of you! You made him so happy!" Sansa said with glee, brushing up besides her looping her arm through hers. She was practically skipping.

"A small gesture, no one person can be an island. We all need a helping hand from time to time," Margaery responded.

They started to make their way back to Harrenhal, as it was getting a little bit later in the day. She presumed Robb would be returning soon with Arya, and she wanted to talk with him about his actions. She didn't like the fact that he had gone out with such a small group of men. He was still quite wounded, even though he wouldn't admit it himself. She protested against it this morning to him, but he insisted on going out. "We'll move faster with a smaller group," he had said. You acted like a fool was more like it, Margaery thought to herself. She wanted to shake him for being so foolish. He needed to be more careful, she would need to try and convince him of that before he got himself killed.

"What's going on? Sansa asked.

She picked her head out of her thoughts at Sansa's voice. All around them townsfolk were moving away from what they were doing. They abandoned the market stalls, and lakeside docks, and they all began rushing towards the center square.

"I don't know, let's find out," Margaery answered her.

They moved towards the center of town, following the flock of townsfolk towards the center square. Up ahead of them there was a blockade of people gathering all around the large statue Aegon. They were all talking amongst each other, conversations overlapping over the other.

"It's not right," She heard some say.

"Law is the law," others said. Margaery wanted to find out what was going on.

"Make way!" Harrion Karstark shouted, as he Rodrik Forrester and their other guards began pushing past the crowds of people to give them a path through. When they finally pushed past the last person, she was appalled at what she saw.

Beneath the statue of Aegon there were three guards in chainmail. Two wore yellow bat surcoats, the sigil of House Whent over-top the armor. The other one, the smallest of the three men wore chainmail armor as well, but the sigil on his chest was of two blue towers united by a bridge. The men had a young boy pinned face down at the base of the statue. One guard held the boy's head down on the stone, while another was holding his arm, and hand out beneath Aegon's feet.

The boy couldn't be more than eight or nine years old. He had dirty blonde hair, and seemed to be in a great deal of pain. His shirt was torn at the sleeves and his face was covered in dirt and blood. His lip was bleeding badly, and had a fat puffy eye stained black and blue.

"That's the last time I'm going to catch you stealing from the markets boy! We let you off the last time with just a warning." The guardsmen with the bridge sigil said loudly. Though he was small in stature, he seemed to be the one in charge. He had a small face that was scrunched together like a rodent. His teeth were stained yellow that held black cavities in between his gums. Above his left eye there was a cut from an old wound that tore through one of his eyebrows.

The man pulled out his sword from its scabbard, holding it out over the boy's outstretched hand.

"No, please! I was only trying feed my little..." The boy tried to say but was smacked in the mouth by the foul looking guard, causing the child to spit up more blood out from his mouth.

"We warned you what would happen last time boy! Now you lose the hand!" the same man said. He raised his sword in the air, ready to bring it down.

"Stop!" Margaery shouted out loudly.

The man stopped his motion, and all three guardsmen turned to look at her eying her suspiciously. She confidently strode towards them, with her head held high. Her own guards moved besides her, flanking her between them. "What is going on here?" She said demanding their attention.

"We caught him stealing from the markets two days in a row now. Boy must pay the price, some only learn the hard way," the rodent faced man said to her, his voice sounded like that of a weasel.

"He is a child!" She said harshly to him.

"I'm sorry milady but the law is the law, and stealing can't be gone away unpunished," the guard said before raising his sword up in the air again.

"You will do no such thing," she said calmly and confidently while slightly glaring at the man. She heard the people start whispering behind her.

"Milady? The boy broke the law. If he wants to eat, he should find work just like everyone else, "

She looked back at the boy who was looking at her now, tears streamed down his face, and his eyes pleading for help.

"Let him go...Now," She said firmly, raising her voice in a commanding tone. She usually never raised her voice, it wasn't how she operated, but this man was testing her patience.

"I'm sorry milady, but I'm captain of the guard here. I say this boy will lose the hand," the man said, as he turned away from her, and back at the boy.

"What's your name soldier?" She said narrowing her eyes at him. She could feel the anger rising from within her, and was having trouble keep it under wraps.

"Ser Danwell, Ser Danwell Frey. Son of Lord Walder Frey, lord of the Twins."

A knight? Not very knightly to beat a child. "Ser Danwell Frey, that's an easy name to remember. I only wanted to have your name right when I tell my husband, Robb Stark, that you disobeyed a direct command from his wife," she said to him curtly.

The other guards holding the boy down heads perked up at hearing that. "Stark?!" They said looking at her with fear, and looked at their captain with questioning wide eyes. Apparently the towering Karstark to her right, and giant direwolf embroidered on her cloak had been lost on these men.

"Or perhaps I will speak with Edmure Tully about this. I'm sure he would like to know that Lady Whent's guards only useful quality seems to be beating frightened and starving children. You seem a smart man, what do you think Ser Danwell?"

She watched the veins on his neck pulsate, his eyebrows furrow in anger, and his complexion change to a beating red. It was obvious this was a man not used to getting what he wants.

"Now, I'll ask you one more time, let. Him. Go." She said with a stern voice, exacting her control over him.

The man turned his head towards the other guards, put his sword back in his sheath, and made a motion with his head to release the boy.

"Thank you Ser Danwell, good day," she said sharply, doing her best to sound like her grandmother. The three guards walked away towards the gawking crowd trying to disperse them.

"All right shows over! Go back to your business you fools," Ser Darnwell said, stomping around like he owned the square. The people soon started to dissipate returning to what they had been previously been doing, all talking amongst themselves about what had just transpired. She didn't like this man, not one bit. She would have to see what she could do to have this stain removed from his duty.

Margaery and Sansa had both moved up besides the young boy at the base of the statue. She put a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder, while Sansa knelled down beside him and rubbed his back. "Thank you." the little boy said into her dress. He moved into her arms, and hugged her tightly. He was even smaller up close.

"What is your name?" Margaery asked the boy gently.

"Gregory milady," the boy answered though a raspy voice, and choking sobs trying to control his tears. Blood was forming in his mouth, and he looked to have lost a couple teeth from the pounding he took.

"Are you hungry Gregory? Is that why you stole the food?" Margaery asked him.

He nodded his head, while sqinting his eye. His right eyed was badly bruised, the white sclera part of his eye was now a blood red color. "I was trying to bring back food for my little sister." His lip was bleeding badly and his mouth could no fully close, which caused blood filled saliva to drip from his mouth.

"You are a good older brother looking out for your sister." Margaery said giving him a comforting smile while gently dabbing his bloody mouth with her cloak.

"Where are your parents Gregory," Sansa asked before she could.

"They was killed, couple moons ago. Brigands came to our farm not too far from here. They raided our home and took everything we had. Then they killed me mother and father, while me sister and I hid in the bushes. Whens theys was done, then they burned our farm to the ground. We's been runnin' ever since," Gregory answered. The boy was visibly shaking in her arms. He would need a maester or his wounds may not heal properly.

"Did you get a look at the brigands' boy?" Harrion Karstark said standing over them protectively.

The boy shook his head no. "Ser Edmure Tully will want to know about this," Margaery said looking up at the Karstark, he nodded his head in agreement.

She stood back up, and held out her hand for the boy to take. "Can you bring us to your sister Gregory? How would you feel about the two of you staying in a castle tonight?" She said shining a smile down on him.

He didn't know how long they had been riding. They had left King's Landing in a rush and hadn't slowed down since. He followed closely behind his father the whole way. They rode through the Crownlands riding past the Rosby Road, riding alongside the coastline. Every now and then Bran would turn his head, and watch the red comet fly across the sky. Now the sun sat just about over the horizon, casting the coast in a brilliant orange light.

If he wasn't so nervous, he would have liked doing this. He had always enjoyed riding with his father, and brothers in Winterfell. Sometimes, he would pretend that they were all riding off to battle to protect their lands from invaders, but not today, today was much different. He was tense the entire ride. He was also getting tired, he had never ridden for so long a period of time before. His groin, legs, and arms, were incredibly sore. Father was going faster than he would normally ride with him, and he had trouble maintaining the same speed the whole time. Though he wasn't going to voice his concerns, not while he knew he was still in major trouble, and only cravens complain about their bruises.

They came to the end of the cape they were riding along, and his father finally started to slow down. All around them was the bay, there were no ships, no settlements, no people, the city long behind them, it was just himself, and his father. His father dismounted from his horse, and walked over to the edge of the cliff. He folded his arms together in front of his chest, and watched the sun slowly set over the horizon. The sun had turned a deep crimson color, which had transformed the orange sky into a dark red, the once white clouds were now black. The once sparkling orange-blue light against the water now looked like waves of blood tossing about in the currents.

His father wouldn't look at him, he kept his focus on the horizon, maintaining a frozen appearance and a ridged expression. "Brandon!" He suddenly said loudly. His voice carried out over the cliff, and echoed out into the bloody water.

Bran's eyes went wide, his ears moved to the back of his head, and he swallowed hard before he dismounted and walked with trepidation towards his father.

He slowly moved towards him, never in his life had he ever felt so small than as he did right now. He moved besides his father, and felt his large shadow looming over him. He cautiously turned his head to look at him, but regretted it when he saw him still staring coldly out at the horizon.

"Bran I'm very disappointed in you." His father said to him slowly

Bran looked at his feet, and could feel tears start forming in his eyes. "I know," he replied in a small voice, still looking at the ground. He gripped the golden ribbon given to him by Myrcella tighter. For some reason he had held onto it the whole way.

"You intentionally refused to listen to me. I told you specifically not to climb the walls of the castle. Because of your actions, I had the entire city looking for you. I thought something terrible had happened to you, and you were... playing! I canceled shipments coming into the harbor, I closed down the markets, and people's homes were searched! This is not a joking matter Bran, what you did today was completely unacceptable."

His father being angry with him was one thing, but he could hear the disappointment in his voice, and that made it so much worse. He sniffed his nose, and wiped the tears from his eyes unable to pick his head up. "I'm sorry. I . . . I ...I'm sorry." He didn't know what to say. He didn't have a good reason why he had gone climbing, he just wanted to see what everything looked like from the top.

His father took a deep breath, and let it out slowly "Do you have any idea how worried I was about you?" he asked, his voice was softer this time. Bran took a peek to look at him. He no longer looked as angry, his face had softened along with his voice.

"I wasn't thinking. I only wanted to see the castle. I didn't mean to cause so much trouble... I'm sorry," he said looking up at him.

His father knelled beside him, put a hand on his shoulder, and let out another deep breath. "I know things have been rough on you these last few weeks. Summer's death was not easy, and seeing everyone leave I know is hard. But you must promise me not to do that anymore. The Red-Keep is not Winterfell, not everyone is on our side. If you must go climbing, go to the godswood, not the Red-Keep for gods sake do you understand."

Bran nodded his head. "Yes father, I understand."

"When I was about your age, I was sent off to live in the Eyrie with Jon Arryn. I did not want to go either. I wanted to stay with my family, I felt more comfortable with them. I was mad at my father at first, but I would never voice my thoughts to him. But I'm glad he made me go, that's where I met Robert. If you can believe it, he was worse when he was young. Loud, bold, and unafraid, he reminded me of your uncle Brandon, everything that I couldn't be. You see I was very shy in my youth, and I think we fed off of each other, Robert and I. Robert saw in me and way to calm himself down, to stop and think, and I saw in him, a way to break out of my shell. If I was never sent to the Eyrie I would have never met him, and perhaps Targaryens would still be on the Iron Throne. What I'm trying to say is, just because what is in front of you may not like. It may turn out to be exactly what you need,"

Bran nodded his head at his father again. "I will marry Myrcella father, I understand why I have to. It is for our house. You married mother for the Riverlands. Robb married Margaery for the Reach. Now I have to marry Myrcella for the King," he said looking up at him.

"Yes... Myrcella… for the King..." His father said, his voice faltered slightly saying the words.

"I won't go climbing anymore. I'm sorry for what I did today, I'm sorry I let you down. It won't happen again, I promise." He had made the same promise to his mother before, but now, standing here with his father at what felt like the edge of the world, he meant it.

His father nodded at him, and stood back to full height turning his attention back to the bay. The sun was just about over the horizon, the light fading from sight, and slowly giving way to the darkness. The red sky was turning a deep shade of purple, the clouds turning to a dark royal blue. The stars slowly became visible, and the red comet still streaked across the sky. The comet was a dark red color that had two tails. One streamed out behind it, and the other was like a cloud of embers raining down on them from above.

"What does the red comet mean father?" Bran asked.

"I'm sure it means a great many things, to a great many people. Some will say it's an omen. Others will say it is the dawn of a new age. But . . . it may not mean anything at all," his father answered him looking up at the comet with him with a hand resting on his shoulder.

"Old nan used to tell us stories that when a red comet flew across the sky dragons were born into the world. But the dragons are all dead. Right?" His father didn't say anything, he stood there like he was thinking about something. The wind blew his hair back, and spray of the mist rose up from the water crashing against the rocks below.

His father let go of his shoulder and walked over to his horse. He then pulled out two spears that were attached to the horse's saddlebags. He picked them both up, and tossed one to him. Bran caught it in his hands, and was surprised by how light it was. "Now you'll be going on a hunt tomorrow with the King. You'll be needing that." His father said gesturing to the spear in his hands. It was smaller than the ones Robb, Jon, and Theon used in Winterfell. It was more suited to his size, it was perfect.

"I'm going to show you how to use it. Robert can get a little overconfident when he drinks. You will have to remain on your guard at all times because . . . he won't,"

Bran smiled and nodded at him. Then father and son practiced using their spears on the edge of the cliff well into the night.

Margaery woke in her bed when she felt a cold wind blowing into the room. The cold ran under her covers and down her back, sending a chill up her spine. She shivered, and instinctively brought the blankets closer to her. It's not even winter yet and I'm already starting to feel the cold. She thought with frustration. She opened her eyes, turned over in bed, and found she was still alone. She had waited up for Robb, but couldn't keep her eyes open any longer before sleep finally took her. It was the middle of the night, and still he hadn't come back to bed!

The northmen seemed to appreciate all the wine from Victor's winery. Upon hearing Victor was once a page for Prince Rhegar Targaryen, she immediately had to find out what else he knew about him. She was convinced that he must know more. When his wife was feeling better, she can press him further on the issue when he visits Winterfell. He couldn't very well deny her request after what she had done for him.

Voices carried up through the empty halls of Harrenhal echoing up into her room. Loud yelling and laughter from the rowdy northmen could be heard especially the voice of the Greatjon Umber still drinking at this late hour. She wasn't all that fond of Harrenhal. The room they were staying in was large, empty, and drafty. Every breeze that blew in felt like it was coming across a vast open frozen tundra.

She sat up in bed and made to get dressed to see if Robb had returned. He may be down drinking with the other northmen. They had talked with Gregory, and his little sister Erin about the brigands that raided their farm. Lord Edmure found the news very alarming and he was forming a hunting party tomorrow to go out and track down these brigands. A sudden fear ran through her. Perhaps Robb had run into these men, maybe that's why he hadn't returned. He was in no condition to fight, she had asked him to take more men with him, but he had refused to listen to her. Cover more ground... pah… the fool...if he...

She stopped her train of thought when she saw him. He was sitting at the table on the far side of the room. He sat with his back facing her. The few candles burning on the table with him made the dark room glow around where he was sitting with Grey Wind resting beside him. Half of the large direwolf's body was under the table, while the other was pointed out towards the bed. She let out a sigh of relief, and she found herself smiling at the sight of him. She stood to her feet and made her way towards him, taking her blankets along to keep warm. Their room was gigantic, and the breeze made the floor beneath her feet cold.

He was out of his armor, wearing only the dark brown leather doublet underneath. Grey Wind opened his eyes, and looked at her as she made her approach. The direwolf eyed her once before closing them again, and going back to sleep.

She came up behind him, and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Got you," she said into his ear.

He turned his head and looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "I thought you were asleep," he said to her softly with small smile. She ran her nose up against his neck and breathed in his scent. He always smelt the same, like the outdoors, like fresh leaves, and grass. The smell made her relax.

"I was, until the cold woke me. My wolf wasn't there to keep me warm. Are you just getting back now? Robb, it's the middle of the night. Where have you been all day?" she asked him.

He turned his attention back toward the map of the Riverlands on the table. On top of the map there were three pouches of coins, along with a feather pen resting in an ink jar. There were four parchments on top of the map. Three of them still seemed to be wet with ink, while the fourth was separated from the others resting at the northernmost part of map. The grey direwolf seal of House Stark remained unbroken on the parchment.

Robb looked at the three open parchments beneath him with a sad expression on his face, before picking one up and passing it back to her over his shoulder. "You were right... I should have listened to you this morning... I should have taken more men," he said sadly, rubbing his face with his hands.

The contents read.

Dear Lady Lightfoot,

It is with a heavy heart that I write you this letter. I regret to inform you that your husband Rickard Lightfoot was killed today. I asked your noble husband to accompany me on an important task for my family. He performed above and beyond the call of duty, and died bravely protecting my sister Arya and I from a large pack of wolves.

I know this letter, or the coin attached with it cannot replace the loss of your husband. I wanted you to know he died a hero, and if it not for him, we all would have perished. His loss hurts us all, but none more so than whom he was close to. He talked of you and your son William often, and held you both close to his heart. I count myself lucky to have known him. May his soul find peace in the embrace of the old gods.

Sincerely, Robb Stark.

She looked at the letter for a moment longer before putting it back down on the table, each of the letters were sent to a different person; names of the bannerman that had accompanied him today. "What happened? You were attacked by wolves!?" She said louder than really meaning to. Then he told her what happened, how their bannermen were ripped apart by wolves, how Nymeria came and stopped them from finishing the job.

"My father gives me command of this company, and what do I do with it? I get my men killed. I should have listened to you. I'm such a fool," he said shaking his head with grief and angry with himself.

At least he realizes it. It would be of no good to gloat about her being right. He was obviously taking their losses hard. It was now beginning to dawn on her why the Starks were so loved by all of the Northmen: they truly cared about their bannermen and all of their people. Her father wouldn't be taking the loss of some minor lord this hard. He surely wouldn't take the time to write them a letter of condolences. He would pass that off to his steward, or maester, and then only claim that he wrote it.

"At least you found Nymeria. Arya must be happy she is reunited with her."

Robb turned his head, and smiled sadly down at Grey Wind's sleeping form beside him. "We did find her... But she didn't come back with us,"

"What do you mean?" she said.

"Nymeria came with us until we could see Harrenhal in the distance, but no further, she wouldn't leave her pack. Arya had to... she had to let her go," he said sadly. He was still looking at Grey Wind as he spoke.

"You should have seen the way Grey Wind interacted with Nymeria, and the other wolves. He looked comfortable, he looked at home," he said with a sad smile.

She looked down at Grey Wind resting besides them. "He looks more than comfortable to me from where I'm standing," she said to him.

"I'm all Grey Wind has ever known. He doesn't know what it's like to not be shackled to me. He hasn't tasted what it's like to roam free with Nymeria. To go where he wants, to do what he wants, to live where he wants. He's a direwolf, not a pet. Perhaps it's best if I let him go too,"

She didn't really like the idea of Grey Wind leaving. As frightened as she may have been of the wolf when she first saw him, she now felt more comfortable with him around. It was Grey Wind that had stopped her from giving Robb the poison that day in his room. If she hadn't seen those yellow eyes staring into her as she held the liquid in her hands, she would have given it to him.

"Don't make a decision like this when you are racked with grief Robb. It's not healthy, and no good will come of it I assure you. Grey Wind isn't shackled to you. It's not as if you keep him chained up. He knows he can come and go as he pleases, but he chooses to come back to you, because he loves you,"

"But..." She silenced him by leaning over and kissing him softly on the cheek.

"Are you going to learn from your mistakes or not? Will you not listen to me for a second time in the same day?" She said still leaning over his shoulder. He did want her to be honest with him. The thing about the truth, sometimes it has to sting.

He leaned back in his chair, and let out a heavy sigh before turning his head slightly to look at her. "I'm not going to win many arguments with you am I?"

She smiled and kissed him again on his cheek. "That's good, you're learning,"

He laughed softly, his chest rising up and down in her arms. There was a long pause before he spoke again. "Still no news from King's Landing?" He asked her suddenly. They hadn't really talked about what she told him on their wedding night. They had been on the road for most of the time and hadn't had all that much time to talk, and the other times they were by themselves, well… deep conversations hadn't been on the itinerary.

"No, nothing yet," She said softly to him.

"Why do I keep get the feeling we are going the wrong way," he replied back to her.

"I know how you feel husband, the suspense of not knowing is killing me as well, I'm not quite sure what they should do. How do you depose a Queen who just so happens to be the daughter of one of the richest and most powerful men in Westeros? Lord Tywin is Warden of the West, the King himself named the Kingslayer Warden of the East. Not to mention the mountain of influence the Queen already has in place there in King's Landing. Any move against House Lannister will be a hard one to make. But I would put my grandmother up against anyone. Give the Queen of Thorns the Warden of the North and Hand of the King," she paused and smiled to herself thinking about what her grandmother could do with the power of the Hand at her disposal, "and anything is possible. Even dead lions," she said to him softly.

Robb shook his head. "It still doesn't make sense to me. Why would the Queen want me dead? I know I'm not her favorite person, not after I punched her brother in the hall, but to have me killed?"

"For some reason she didn't want us to get married. Her reasons are quite vexing to me as well. She has everything a woman could want. She is the Queen married to the King, and her son will take the throne one day. The only reason I can think of is…"

Robb noticed her pause. "What? What is it?" He said turning his head around looking into her eyes as she leaned over his shoulder.

"What if the Queen wanted to expedite the process of putting her son on the throne?"

"You mean… regicide!?" He said it almost in a whisper, as if these shadowed walls of Harrenhall had ears of their own. "I know Cersei doesn't like Robert, but to murder him?" He said in disbelief.

"It wouldn't be the first Lannister to betray a King," she told him.

He looked back to the map of the Riverlands on the table, and formed a tight fist in his hands. His jaw clenched and she could see he was trying to contain his anger. "If this is true, then my father must already know about the plot. That must be the reason he wanted us to get married, to bring the Reach onto his side. And also why he is sending Sansa and Arya home to Winterfell, and then Bran off to Highgarden. To keep them all away from the Queen," He said while rubbing the light scruff that had started to grow again on his face. She smiled to herself. He may be rash, and bold, and maybe a little hot tempered, but he knew how to connect the dots. He was smarter than she thought he would be.

"We have to trust our parents that they will take the right course of action," She said. The Queen may be viscous, but she had no idea what kind of enemy she has in her grandmother. Give Olenna Tyrell a direwolf to sick on her enemies, and the realm will tremble at her feet.

"I guess that's all we can do," He said solemnly staring at the burning candle. There was another long silence between them as they both quietly thought about their family in King's Landing.

"There was something else actually," she cooed to him as she unwrapped her arms from around him, and walked back over towards her nightstand by the bed. The further away from him she went, the colder she became. The floor was starting to feel like ice beneath her feet. She grabbed the letter, and put on a pair of slippers before walking back over to him. "Here you may find this… interesting. It's from my brother Loras," she said with a smile.

He gently took the letter from her and started reading and she watched his face form a smile, his white teeth shining brightly against the candlelight. He shook his head, and laughed softly to himself while he read it. "It would seem your brother is quite the climber," she said sitting down in the chair to his right. "Does he climb the walls often?"

He nodded his head finishing the remainder of the letter before placing it down with the others. He looked back at her and smiled. "In Winterfell, Bran would climb the castle walls as often as he could. He would climb the battlements, the towers, everything he could get his hands on. He would scare my mother to death whenever he did it," He said letting out another soft laugh. "He is good at it, the best climber in the Seven Kingdoms I'd say. I've seen him climb in the snow, the rain, and the wind. I wish I could have seen him climb the castle. Oh, to see the look on my father's face when he found him," Robb started laughing heartily at the thought, it was infectious and she began laughing with him.

"You had a busy day of your own from what I hear. Everyone appreciated the wine. Trying to win the northerners over by getting them all drunk?" He said eying her with a knowing smile.

She dropped her head slightly and rested her head on her fist, giving him a sly smile. Obviously her attempted bribe of the northmen was not lost on him. "I thought they'd like it," She said with a light laugh picking her head back up.

He laughed again, before he grabbed her hand that rested on the table. He quickly yanked her forward, tugging her to her feet, and then he lifted her up and brought her onto his lap. She yelped with surprise by his actions, as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Not the worst idea in the world lady Stark," he said with a grin, before kissing her softly. Her blanket had fallen to the ground by his actions, she was now only in her silk nightgown, but she was no longer cold. He was always so warm.

With his lips still on hers, she opened her eyes and gazed at the one parchment on the table that was still closed; the parchment with the wax seal of House Stark that was resting at the top of the map. With a quick motion she reached her hand out, and grabbed the parchment in question.

"What's this one?" She asked breaking away from the kiss. She held it in her hands, waving the parchment in front of his eyes. His eyebrows nearly reached his hairline in alarm.

"No! Don't open it!" Robb said with panic in his voice.

Whatever it was, it was important, and secret. Now she had to know what it was. She put the parchment high above her head with a hand at the edge of the scroll threating to open it. "Why? Who is it for? Your mistress? Are you cheating on me husband?" She said giving him a cheshire smile trying to get a rise out of him.

"Of course not!" He said raising himself up in the chair desperately reaching for the parchment. But she kept moving it away from him, raising it far above her head as far out of his reach as possible in her current position.

"Margaery give me the parchment, it's from my father," He said with panic.

It was important. She found it curious it was sealed with the direwolf sigil, and not the Hand of the King's insignia. Who could it be for?

She smiled down at him as he continued his failed assault for the parchment. "A letter from the Hand of the King? Is it to Lady Catelyn Stark? A love letter perhaps? Is Lord Eddard Stark a poet underneath that rugged and brow beaten exterior?" She asked with amusement.

Robb stopped reaching for the parchment and instead grabbed hold of her arms, keeping her from fidgeting in his lap. He held her there, not aggressively, but firmly. Even though he was wounded, she could still feel the strength he had in his arms. "Drop the parchment my loving wife," He said with faux amusement.

She let out a disappointed huff, and rolled her eyes. "You're no fun," she said dropping the parchment from her hands and let it fall onto his chest. She narrowed her eyes at him, slightly angry with him for making her drop it.

He let go of her arms and quickly snatched up the parchment into his hands, sighing in relief. He then eyed her with a cheshire smile of his own. "No fun? I seem to recall you enjoying yourself this morning, and the day before that, and then the day before that. What was that sound you were making again? I forget, something like "ahoooo," or was it more like, "uhooohh!""

She dropped her mouth open with astonishment. What an arse. He did not just say that. She then hit him in his chest. "You arse. You've been spending far too much time with Theon Greyjoy," She said hitting him again.

He put his hands up quickly protecting his face from her attack "Ow-Ow. Alright… Alright, I surrender. I suppose I deserved that," he said through laugh, as she continued hitting him lightly.

"A woman does not enjoy a reenactment of her most vulnerable moments," she went to lightly hit him again, but he caught it in mid-air and brought her closer to him. Her chest was now flush up against his own.

"I apologize, my lady," he said before going to kiss her, but she turned her head at the last moment. His lips missing its target and landing on her cheek.

"You didn't think I would forgive you just like that? I'm not that easy to please husband. Besides how do you know I wasn't faking it?" She said with a grin, eyeing him mischievously.

He smiled a seductive grin up at her, and sat up more in his seat. "Oh? Faking it were you?" He said into her ear. His tone of voice was hot and heavy, and his breath sent a tingle up her could feel herself starting to respond to him again. He brought his lips to her neck, and started to lightly nibble while his hands starting to snake their way underneath her nightgown. The warmth of his hands against her cold stomach warmed her whole body. Her breathing became heavier, and her hands involuntarily went into his hair as his lips went further up her neckline, softly kissing, and sucking on the tender flesh. He worked his way up until he was now only a few inches away from her lips, when he suddenly stopped everything. Her breath was rasping, and she suddenly missed the heat of his hands on her skin. "Right… Faking it," he said hotly into her ear. That smug smile had returned to his face, the same he wore at their wedding feast, the one she found extremely irritating. She had never wanted to slap someone more than she did right now. The way he could just go from hot to cold was so infuriating, but what she found even more frustrating, was that she loved it. Seven Hells I'm in trouble.

He picked the letter back up front the table and held it out between them. "The letter is not for my mother. It's for my brother," he said looking up at her.

She calmed her breathing down, and looked at the letter still intrigued by it. She wondered which brother it was for. Bran was down in King's Landing, so it couldn't be for him. Rickon was a five year old, could the boy even read yet? The only brother that made sense was the bastard on the Wall. "Jon Snow?" she asked looking down at him.

He met her gaze with a questioning look on his face. "How did you know?

"When you first woke up from your fever-dream you cried out his name," she said as she unconsciously started pulling at the strings of his doublet, opening up more of his bruised chest to her. "You also say his name sometimes in your sleep. I sleep right next to you at night Robb. You don't think I've noticed that you are having trouble sleeping? What's wrong?" She asked said him. Not that they had been sleeping that much anyway. They had been on the road for most of the time and the other times well . . . but the dark bags under his eyes were a dead giveaway of sleep deprivation.

He looked away from her, his gaze resting on something past her. She watched his eyes start to darken, and he seemed to be going somewhere else entirely, someplace dark. "The dreams I keep having are about my brother. They are… freighting. I watch him die every time I close my eyes, and nothing I do ever changes the outcome." He paused before looking at her again. "I know how it sounds, they're just dreams after all. But when I'm in it, I feel everything. I feel the cold, I feel the blood in my veins, I feel the steel in my hands, and I feel the bite of the ice in my…" He was slightly shaking his head, as if he were flushing those thoughts away.

"You're worried about him. It's only natural to dream about people you care about. I dream about my brothers too. Though it's never anything like what you're describing. Usually whenever I have a nightmare it's someone finding out about Loras, and then throwing him in a cell to be punished," her eyes widened in surprise with herself. She couldn't believe she had just said that out loud to him. What is happening to me?

Robb looked at her strangely. "Find out what about Loras?"

She had to change the subject before she revealed more than she was ready to. "What does the letter say to Jon? Do you know?" She asked quickly. He narrowed his eyes at her slightly, the obvious misdirection was not lost on him. She pleaded with her eyes to not press the issue and thank the gods, he didn't.

Robb handed the parchment to her and let her take it this time. She silently looked at the unbroken parchment and held it in her hands between them. "My father is going to legitimize Jon, name him Stark."

That was a surprise to her. "But he's a brother of the Night's Watch now. They give up their names, and titles. What good would his name do him now? Are you sure that's what it says?"

"I'm well aware of the Night's Watch's vows, my uncle Benjen is a brother of the Night Watch as well. Just because he can't hold any lands or titles doesn't mean he's not a Stark, and now it will finally be official. After we reach Winterfell, I'm going to the Wall to give it to him,"

"Can I come with you when you go?" She asked suddenly.

He gave her an odd look. "You want to go to the Wall? Why?"

"I've always wanted to see it, even it's just to say that I have. Plus I wouldn't mind meeting your brother. I want to get to know your family,"

"The Wall is not a safe place for a lady. Especially for one who looks like you, the men might try to kill each other just to get a glimpse of you," he said, looking at her affectionately.

She smiled down at him "Well that's all they can do, look. Besides husband, I thought you said you would protect me, or were you just trying to get into my skirts?" She asked with a seductive grin.

He laughed again shaking his head looking down at his now exposed chest. "I will protect you, I swore a vow. But I may not be stopping at the Wall. My father said that the Night's Watch has gone out beyond the Wall to see what has been happening out there. He said the wildlings are forming up behind a man named Mance Rayder, the King beyond the Wall the wildlings are calling him. You must understand, wildling tribes hate each other, almost as much as they hate us. To have them all fall in line and follow one man – "

"You plan on going beyond the Wall?" she cut him off abruptly widening her eyes and nearly shouting in her seat.

"If that's where Jon is, then that's where I'm going,"

"You would go beyond the Wall to find your brother just to give him a letter from your father!"

"And to make sure he is well, but yes I would, and I will," He said with a serious determination in his voice.

The honorable fool. "No you're not, I won't allow it, it is too dangerous out there Robb!"

He turned his head toward her and eye her with a hint of a smile. "Now you sound like my mother, you seem to like giving orders. I heard about what happened today in the square," he said his face growing more serious. She caught that he had changed the subject quite quickly. Though since she had done it with Loras, she would let this one slide. But they weren't done with this discussion about the Wall, not even close.

"You did the right thing with the boy. I'm going to have Ser Danwell Frey removed from his duty as captain and sent back to the Twins. Any man who beats children like that has no place leading anyone. I heard he gave you a hard time as well. I won't allow that," he said firmly.

She smiled at him when he said that. She was going to ask him to do that very same thing. It seemed he had already come to the same conclusion. She had wondered how a man of House Frey became the captain of Harrenhal. She had learned that Ser Danwell was married to Wynafrei Whent, Lady Whent's younger cousin. Lady Whent has seemingly chosen to disown her daughter for marrying Victor the bastard from Dorne. When Lady Whent passes then Harrenhal would be given to the last living Whent, Wynafrei, and then subsequently to House Frey by marriage.

Robb leaned them both forward on the chair, and began looking over the map of the riverlands again. "Yet this brigand attack is troubling. Edmure is forming a hunting party tomorrow. I'm going to bring some northmen along with us to bring these murderers to justice."

"You're going?" She asked raising an eyebrow at him.

He nodded his head but kept his focus on the map. "We leave at first light. We're bringing sixty swords with us to track them down," he said pointing to the landmarks on the map. "We'll ride up toward lord Harroway's town. The brigands will probably stay as far from Riverrun as possible if they're on the run. They would have either have fled North to try and cross the trident, or maybe even try to book passage out on the Red Fork. Or they could have headed east toward maidenpool. Hopefully we find some sign of them."

She didn't like the idea of him going to find the brigands. "And what happens when you find these murderers?"

He looked at her curiously. "Gods be good we'll bring them to justice. The Riverlands are my grandfather's lands, my uncle's lands, my mother's lands. I don't like the idea of brigands being able to roam free. I will do what I can to help protect the people of the riverlands," he said with a dutiful tone in his voice.

"I understand that. But why must you go personally?" she asked him.

"Your father may be happy enough to send someone else to do his dirty work. But that's not how things are done in the North. My father always taught me that our way is the old way. The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword. My father always told me the farmers who plough the fields are yours to protect, the women scrubbing the floors yours to protect, the children in their homes yours to protect. The soldiers. . . you order into battle yours to protect. I failed my father, and my men today by letting those die under my command. I won't let these brigands roam free. Not if I can help it."

"What happens if you find them and they resist?"

His nose twitched, and his eyes burned blue at the thought of it. "We will put them down... hard."

"You will?" she said raising a questioning eyebrow at him. She then reached her hand out and felt his wounded shoulder right where she knew it hurt the most. She pressed down more firmly than really necessary, she wanted to emphasize her point. He failed at fighting back a grimace, and he shut his eyes in pain, sharply sucking in his breath.

"Robb, you're still too wounded. You can't fight. Let Edmure go with the Rivermen, and send a northerner you trust to go out and deliver the justice. You still need to heal. I don't want to see you get yourself killed. Stay here… with me."

"Margaery..."

She turned his head framing it in her hands, forcing him to look into her eyes. "I want you to promise me, your wife, that you won't go out tomorrow."

He turned his eyes away from her. She could see the candle's reflection in his irises. He looked back at her for a moment before capturing her lips in a deep kiss, his scent enveloping all of her senses.

"You didn't answer me..." she started to say against his mouth but he didn't stop kissing her, it only made him kiss her harder and deeper. She opened her mouth more to him, her body responding to him almost immediately. Their breathing became heavy, and soon all coherent thought was gone from her. She felt his warm hands go underneath her nightgown again, and this time she couldn't stop herself from melting into his arms. He stood them up with his mouth still on hers, carrying her over to the bed. He laid her softly down underneath him. "Let's warm you up shall we?"

She looked up at him with desire, and ripped his doublet off of him. "At this rate, I'm going to get pregnant before we even reach Winterfell," she said pulling him down on top of her and kissing him again.

His hands went to her nightgown and with a quick motion ripped it open, revealing all of her to him. "Winterfell? I was going for Riverrun," he said with a grin.

"You arse," she said with a joyful laugh. And soon the cold empty room of Harrenhal became a roaring fire of passion.

She woke up to the sun shining in her face from the window, and the barking of dogs from the outside. She sighed with satisfaction from the night before rolling over to see her husband, but felt only pillows. She quickly opened her eyes finding a parchment in place of him.

I'm sorry, but I had to go. I'll make it up to you when I return. I couldn't make that promise to you last night. But I can promise you this: I will always come back to you.

Yours, Robb

She let out an angry and exasperated sigh. It was official she had married a fool. Then why did she miss him so much already?

They sat across from one another at the small dining table in her bedroom. Robert was out whoring again before the hunt, and they both knew how long that would last. It would be hours before he showed up slobbering drunk into his chambers. They sat in silence for the most part of their supper. A fine piece of bloody venison was on his plate. He always liked his deer meat a little raw. On the table there was a single candle burning, and a parchment placed in the center between them, the wax seal broken open, after they both had read the contents.

He cut the venison on his plate with his knife and stabbed it with his fork. "Are you sure about this?" He said to her sitting across from him.

"I've never known you to back down before a fight," she taunted with a sly smile on her lips as she held a goblet of wine in her hands.

"You know I will fight to the death for you. But following this course of action means there's no going back. Are you prepared for that?"

She took a single sip of her wine, and eyed him sharply. "We are committed. Everything is already in motion, I couldn't stop it now even if I wanted to. This is the only path we have open to us now. Lord Stark will move against us soon. "

"How do you know he will? He still doesn't know about us," Jaime answered.

"No, the time for that kind of naïve thinking is over. We must assume he at least knows we tried to kill his son. How long do you truly believe it will be before that little Tyrell whore whispers it into the Stark boy's ear? We've been patient long enough. We must strike now, while we still can."

He didn't say anything back to her. He maintained his focus on his plate in front of him. The meat was moist and tender in his mouth. He could feel her gaze staring at him and knew she was waiting for him to answer her. He responded by softly humming the tune of a song, and cutting up another piece of venison on his plate.

"And so he spoke, and so he spoke," he continued to hum.

A/N

Thanks for reading,

A special thank you to ForceFiend for your help, you are awesome!

Cheers