The girl ran quickly through the hall, hoping against hope no one would notice her. The potion had worked before but she had never used it on such a large group. She kept her eyes on her target, resolutely ignoring the bodies strewn across the floor and the overwhelming scent of blood. It took all her resolve to stay focused, but that just barely made it tolerable. The carnage was needless and stomach churning. The body of Catelyn Stark caused her the only moment of hesitation. She looked so fragile and broken laying on the ground, her dark dress covered in blood. Her skin looked pale and wan, exacerbated by her auburn hair. The girl stopped and took in every detail of the woman. An icy chill ran down her spine and she bit her cheek to stop the tears. She knew she had to focus. Her gaze returned to her target. He was filled with arrows and a clear stab wound. Terror overwhelmed her and she worried she was too late. She ran to the man and prayed for any sign of life. His skin was clammy under her fingers but she could feel the slightest heartbeat. She exhaled with relief, unaware she had even been holding her breath, and pulled the man to his feet, slinging his arm over her shoulder. The potion was wearing off and she knew she had to move, but dragging dead weight was difficult, even for her.

"I really hope you're worth all this effort your majesty," she whispered to the man, as she pulled his hood over his face.

The man moaned and the girl laughed softly to herself. She knew what was at stake, every person in Westeros knew what was at stake, but she had managed to stay out of the war for so long. Now she was willingly throwing herself headlong into the fray and she wasn't even sure she knew whose side she was truly on. Yet there she was, saving the King in the North, and it felt like the choice had been made for her. She pulled the king through the hall and out into the cold night air. Everything was in chaos. People ran in terror and no one seemed to pay her any attention, for which she was grateful. Fire blazed around her and the sounds of screams were heard in the distance. The girl looked around for the king's wolf but there was no sign of him. She decided against looking for the beast. Seeing the humans had been traumatic enough. She carried the king away from the castle and towards her waiting horse. She pushed him on and secured him before jumping on herself. No one had noticed her yet but she could hear the stirrings of the people inside the hall. She knew it wouldn't be long until someone noticed the king's body was missing.

"Move," she commanded her horse, grabbing the reigns tightly.

The horse neighed and galloped into the darkness surrounding the Twins. The girl prayed the darkness would cover her until she got to her cottage. It wasn't far from the Twins but she was surrounded by enemies of the king. It would be hard enough to get him to safety without having to fight off an attack. Her horse ran as fast as it could, given the lack of light and uneven terrain of the forest. Every sound caused her to start and she worried about the health of her companion. He had already been badly injured and she hadn't had the time to properly heal him yet. The girl just hoped it hadn't all been in vain. An unpleasant wetness was soaking through the fabric of her pants. The girl prayed to all the gods, old and new, it wasn't as much blood as it felt. The horse stumbled but kept moving. The king groaned softly, causing the girl to wince. The entire journey was becoming a torturous exercise in endurance, but she persisted, fueled by one thought. If she didn't save Robb Stark, Westeros would be destroyed. Usually the enormity of that realization made the girl slightly queasy but on that night, it was empowering.

The trees grew thicker. The girl jumped off the horse to lead it through, careful to avoid any hidden swampy patches. She was grateful she had thought to disable all of her traps prior to her sojourn. There weren't many, no one ever came looking for her, but she did always remember to forget one when she was in a hurry. Every time the horse stumbled, the girl's heart jumped into her throat. She was convinced she had forgotten one and inadvertently killed the king. Her home had never seemed so far from the Twins before and the forest had never seemed so dark. The moon was full but it did little to light her way. She pulled a torch from her bag. It smoldered into a raging flame without a spark. The girl grinned to herself as she spotted her tiny stone cabin. It didn't look like much. Just a one roomed structure, made of gray stone and heavy oak. A well sat a few steps from the front door and ivy covered the east wall. It had once been lush and emerald green but now it was withered and brown. A single stable stood behind the cabin. The girl led her horse to the front door and gently moved the king off. She waved her hand. The door swung open and a fire blazed to life in her fireplace. The girl dragged the king's heavy body into her single room and lifted him onto her scrub wooden table, ignoring the coolness of his skin. She glanced at her horse standing still outside the doorway, its dark brown coat gleaming in the firelight.

"Well go on then," she said, "back to the stable."

The horse whinnied and trotted away from her sight. She waved the door closed, before turning towards the king. He looked so much younger in the firelight than she had in the hall. She knew he only just reached his seventeenth year before he became King in the North, but she had never expected him to actually by only seventeen years old. His chestnut colored hair was flecked with red and his smooth skin was very pale. He was bigger and broader than she though he would be, he seemed like a giant compared to her, but there was a subtle grace about him. She wondered if it was her noble birth that gave him his grace. The girl wondered what color his eyes were. She had heard everything about the man, from his early life to his victories on the battlefield, but no one had ever bothered to tell her the color of his eyes. A stain of dark blood marred his dark tunic. The girl knew what she needed to do but she hesitated. It seemed beyond inappropriate to undress her recently widowed king, especially without his knowledge. Rationally she knew that saving his life was worth the sudden, and unavoidable, intimacy but that did very little to sooth her. With a deep breath, the girl forced herself forward, grabbing a tiny silver jar off her shelf. The king's breathing was shallow and strained, but steady. She placed the jar on the table and pulled a handful of cloth towards her. She placed her hand on each of the arrows and closed her eyes, muttering soft words under her breath, before slowly extracting each from his skin.

"My lord," she whispered, leaning towards Robb's ear, "I'm going to remove your clothing now. I'm sorry but it's the only way I can save you. Please forgive me."

The girl slowly pulled the king's tunic up, careful not to exasperate any of his injuries. The extent of his wounds was staggering and she was shocked he had managed to survive, especially the stab wound on his side.

"You must carry some favor with the Gods," she said to the unconscious king, "or maybe I do. In which case, you're lucky I came to find you."

The girl placed her hand on each wound in turn. She wasn't powerful enough to heal a wound completely but she could heal them enough to pulled him from mortal danger. The salve in the silver jar was a powdery blue hue and a faint glow. She scooped some out with her fingers and started smoothing it onto each wound. They felt rough under her soft fingers, which still came away with red blood staining them, but his color had improved. A feeling of optimism grew in her stomach, but the girl wasn't willing to get ahead of herself. The king was far from safe. She wrapped cloth around the wounds and sighed, hoping it would be enough. The king had yet to stir. The cabin was silent, not even the wind blew, so the girl waited with nothing to distract her mind. A tiny bucket near the front door filled with water. She soaked a cloth with the cool liquid, pressing it to Robb's forehead. His skin was still caked with blood, sweat and dirt. The girl had never been in the presence of a naked man before. If healing his wounds had seemed intimate, cleaning his naked flesh seemed almost deviant. With her eyes closed tightly, she started cleaning off the blood, hoping not to touch anything she shouldn't.

A loud gasping sound caused her to start. She moved her hand as if she had been shocked and stumbled back, her eyes still closed. She opened one a crack and looked towards the king. Robb had regained consciousness and shot up to a sitting position, looking panicky. The girl stood, too startled to make a move.

"Where am I?" he asked frantically, "who are you?"

"I'm…" the girl stammered, unable to form any words.

"What happened? Where are my men? What have you done to me?"

The girl stammered again.

"I saved you," she managed to say.

"What?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at her suspiciously.

"I saved you."

"I don't believe you," he said viciously, "what have you done to me?"

"I saved you," the girl said, feeling herself growing annoyed.

"From who?"

"I don't know," she said honestly.

It was true, she had only known to save Robb but not why. Robb was still eyeing her suspiciously, but some of the contempt had quelled. The girl tried to make her big gray eyes look innocent and kind, like a kitten she had kept as a child, but she feared it just made her look mad. Robb looked around. He seemed to take in the bloody rags, tattered clothes, broken arrows and, to her horror, the fact that he was naked.

"I'm naked," he said matter-of-factly, not looking at her.

"Yes," the girl agreed, her face burning.

"Why am I naked?"

"I had to clean your wounds."

The king glanced back at her, meeting her gaze. The girl realized he had blue eyes. They were steely and harsh but the tiniest hint of youthfulness seemed to remain. He glanced back at all the evidence again, seeming to take every detail in.

"You saved me?" he asked slowly.

The girl nodded.

"Did someone attack me at the wedding?"

"Do you not remember?" she asked, curiously.

"The last thing I remember is my Uncle and the Frey girl being taken away to their marriage bed."

"Nothing after that?"

Robb shook his head. The girl cast her eyes to the ground. She hadn't banked on having to tell him what happened to him, and the prospect was not appealing. In an attempt to delay the inevitable, she walked to her bed and pulled off her blanket. It was thick red velvet, nicer than anything else in her cabin. She had stolen it from a noble in one of the whore houses in Kingslanding, along with some jewels, a handful of crystal vials and one emerald traveling cloak. She offered the blanket to the king, who took it quickly and covered his body up to his chest.

"Are they dead?" he asked, mournfully.

"Who?" she asked, purposely feigning ignorance.

"My mother," he said, "my men."

"I'm sorry my lord," she said, confirming his fear.

The faintest hint of an angry tear formed in the King's eye. The girl looked away to give him his private agony.

"Who did it?"

"I'm assuming someone working on Lannister orders, but I don't know for sure."

"How do I know you're telling the truth?" Robb asked, his voice tinged with acid, "you could be lying. You could have kidnapped me, be holding me prisoner."

"Why would I heal your wounds if I'm the one who gave them to you?"

"To trick me."

The girl grabbed a small cup from her shelve and filled it with water, then offered it to Robb.

"Take it," she said, "then I have to honor guest right. You'll be safe in my home."

Robb eyed the cup suspiciously but didn't take it. The girl shrugged and moved so that she was no longer blocking the door.

"There are clothes in my wardrobe," she said, "and a horse in my stable. Take both and go."

"What?" Robb asked, his eyebrow raised in confusion.

"You're not prisoner here. Go if you want."

Robb's eyes moved from her to the door, clearly contemplating all his options. His hand moved to his injured side. She had done a good job healing him but one wrong move and he would be right back in mortal danger. He exhaled sharply and shook his head.

"I'd never make it anywhere."

"I really did save you my lord," she explained, "you were almost dead on the ground but I saved you."

"Why me then?" he asked, his voice cracking, "Why save me?"

"Because you're the King in the North and you're the only one who can help me."

"Help you what?"

"Save Westeros."

"Save Westeros?" he asked, repeating her.

"Right," she said, "because if you don't help me then Westeros is doomed."

"Doomed?" he asked, skeptically, "doomed to what."

"Doomed to burn and then freeze."

Robb looked at her as if she were mad, but she stood strong. She was many things, maybe even slightly mad, but she wasn't wrong. Westeros was in grave danger and she was the only person who knew how to save it. It was a task she accepted as if it had been handed to her by the gods, which she reasoned it might have been. Robb had to believe her or else everything was lost. She just hoped she was persuasive enough to convince him with the limited information she could share.

"Are you mad?" Robb asked.

"Maybe," she reasoned, "but it doesn't mean I'm not telling the truth."

He looked around the room. His eyes landing on the shelves filled with herbs, and vials, before moving over to her bed. On the wall above her bed was a series of symbols written in ash,

"You're a woods witch," he said.

"Clever boy."

"And you have the gift of sight?"

"Unfortunately."

The king caught her eye once more. She held it with confidence, although she could feel her resolve fading.

"What's your name then woods witch?"

"Aurora."

"Your family name?"

"It's just Aurora. No family name."

"Well Aurora," Robb said, "how do I know you're telling me the truth?"

"You have to have faith my lord."

"Faith?"

Aurora nodded.

"Let's say I do have faith," Robb started, "how would we save Westeros?"

Aurora smiled.

A/N: Hello all, this is a edit of a story I had up here a while ago. I've changed certain parts but I want to warn people, there will be a romance of sorts between Robb and Aurora so warning. I will be following the show plot mostly, but I will be deviating into some of the book plot lines (Robb's wife is Jayne not Talisa).

There are spoilers for all seasons of Game of Thrones.

Happy Reading!