A/N Thank you to CalliopeGalaxy for the beta! Thank you for continuing to read! Please review because writers thrive on feedback!


Chapter 2

Robb drifted in and out of sleep for the rest of the night but Deirdre stayed by him, her hand frequently resting on his chest below his wound to see if it was still hot. Jeyne would come in and check on him at times but she didn't stay with him like she had the previous nights. Smalljon took over for Dacey and would talk to Jeyne when she would come in.

"Your Grace, if you don't sleep while he's sleeping then you'll exhaust yourself, which wouldn't be good for your baby," Jeyne finally said after hearing Deirdre and Smalljon arguing about Deirdre staying awake all night with Robb.

"I'm not leaving him."

"There is more room on that bed then there is on your cot. I'll move him to the side of the bed and you can lie down beside him," Smalljon offered but Deirdre smacked his hands away from Robb.

"Don't you dare, Smalljon Umber!" she snapped. "If you move him, you might hurt him. He's the king, not a child to be tossed about." Smalljon seemed to be trying to refrain from laughter which only made her madder. "Your manners are worse than your father's."

After that, Smalljon did laugh. "I hardly think that's possible, Your Grace. I'm not the one who asked His Grace if he was touched in the head and called him 'boy'."

"That was before he became king, not that it matters much," Deirdre mumbled then saw that Jeyne was watching them with amusement and surprise. "I'm certain you never expected such coarse and disrespectful behavior from a lord's son. If you knew the lord, you'd understand."

"It's quite refreshing to see genuine affection between a king and his men," Jeyne said with a shy smile. "King Robb must be a good king to inspire such loyalty."

Deirdre looked down at her sleeping husband and tears filled her eyes as she nodded. She knew worry and lack of sleep was making her more emotional but she had tried to refrain from crying in front of Jeyne so far. She seemed like a sweet person but sweet or not, she was still the enemy in some respects.

She felt large hands grasp her shoulders gently. "Deirdre, allow me to carefully move the king to one side so you can lie down. Otherwise, he'll never forgive me," Smalljon said in a soft voice. It always amazed her that both he and his father could be so huge and intimidating but then be so gentle at times, Smalljon especially. She'd caught him playing with Grey Wind, like a boy with a dog, a few times when he thought no one was watching, and he always showed the ultimate respect for the women in camp, except for Dacey. Those two had a brother-sister relationship and Dacey would have probably punched him in the face if he treated her like a woman. But Deirdre knew that Smalljon would kill for Dacey.

Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded and watched while the big Northman moved her husband. Jeyne brought her a blanket and excused herself while Smalljon took up a spot where his back was mostly to them. Deirdre lay down beside Robb and watched him sleep for a few moments, her hand resting on his heart as a reassurance that it still beat. Finally unable to resist she closed her eyes and slept.

x-x-x

Deirdre woke up a few hours later and found Robb watching her in confusion. "Am I dreaming again?"

Reaching out to touch his face, she sighed in relief that he was just a little too warm, not burning up. "No, it's real. Are you in a lot of pain?"

"When did you come, and why? Deirdre, it's too risky for you to have come here," he said, trying to sit up. As soon as he did, a pained expression crossed his face and he paled, lying back down.

"We had this discussion already last night. Let me fetch the maester," she said, quickly rising from the bed.

"Last night? I don't remember…there was a woman here before, that I didn't know. I just remember taking off my armor last night and… the rest is blurry."

"That was three days ago, Robb," she said with a gentle smile. "The woman is Jeyne Westerling, who watched over you when you were first injured until I arrived last evening. You spoke to me last night, but I suppose that was your fever talking. And I came because my beloved husband was injured." She kissed him lightly.

"I'll have to speak to Ned and the Greatjon for allowing that," he muttered under his breath.

Deirdre chuckled. "I didn't give them a choice. I'm the queen and, since you didn't give them specific orders not to allow me to come here, they had no choice but to follow my command. But it wouldn't have mattered. I would have come even if they attempted to stop me." She laughed at his frown of disapproval.

After the maester examined him, Deirdre had food brought to him. Once again, she was told that Lady Sybell Westerling required an audience with her. Deirdre agreed to it, if only to remind the woman that she was not in command of the castle anymore. Her steward escorted her, Ned, and Robert to the woman's solar where she awaited them with her brother, Ser Rolph Spicer. They bowed when she entered and offered her wine. Ned gave her a small shake of her head to decline so she did, wondering if he feared Lady Sybell would poison her and if so, if he had reasons to suspect that or was just being cautious.

"I was informed that you have been insistent to speak with me, Lady Sybell. But let me make it clear, I came to see to my husband's care, not renegotiate any terms he made in regards to the Crag," Deirdre said sharply. "What matter could not wait until His Grace had recovered his full strength and could not be brought up with one of his men that are in command?"

"Your Grace, it is has been many years since I've seen you, at your first wedding to Ser Thomas. I hope your mother is well," Lady Sybell said with an air of arrogance and disdain to her tone. Obviously, she was still very loyal to Tywin.

Deirdre searched her memories for anything related to the Westerlings and other than remembering meeting Jeyne as a child, one of many girls she was to entertain while their fathers visited her father or, after her father's death, Lord Tywin. She didn't remember anything of any significance in regards to any of the Westerlings being at her wedding but that day was such a blur and she had tried to block most of it from her memory anyway.

"You'd have to ask someone else about my mother's well-being. We haven't spoken since I married His Grace in Winterfell," Deirdre said dismissively.

Lady Sybell nodded and said, "I imagine it was quite a shock to her that you remarried, far away in the North, without her there. You two were so close."

Deirdre forced a smile. She realized now that this woman had no real knowledge of her, her mother or anything in regards to her, if she were to make such a ludicrous statement. Lady Sybell was attempting to either insinuate that she knew her family or shame her for her loyalty to Robb. Either way, she wasn't interested in continuing the discussion about her family.

"Is there a reason for this audience other than to discuss days long gone? I have little time for it and I need to attend to other matters," Deirdre replied. Her tone of voice was growing more hostile but she was too tired to force too much courtesy. "As I said, this should have been brought up with His Grace's commanders."

"It's the king's men that are causing the source of trouble, Your Grace." Rolph spoke for the first time. "They've taken over our stables, great hall, and many of the bedroom chambers. They're dwindling our stores and have hindered us from repairing our gates."

Deirdre was quiet a moment. "I'm not an expert in warfare, but isn't this normal behavior when a castle is stormed?" She glanced at Robert and Ned for reassuring nods. "I haven't heard of any of your men being killed since you surrendered; nor have women been raped or buildings being burnt. I assure you that you're being treated more gently than if the Lannister forces had invaded."

"You're a Lannister," Lady Sybell said, her glare catching Deirdre fully. "You should not speak ill of your kin."

Deirdre rose to her feet. "I'm a Stark now, wife of Robb Stark, King in the North. I'm the Queen of the North or have you forgotten? How dare you speak to me in such a manner! How I speak of my kin is not your concern. Now if you have no real grievances, I suggest you trouble yourself less with the manner I speak of my family and more with repairing your castle. I will tell the men not to hinder you with that. But that is all. Consider yourselves lucky that castle rooms, stables and stores are all they are intruding on. And furthermore, from now on, address your troubles to Smalljon Umber."

Lady Sybell looked at her for a moment before bowing her head. "Forgive me, Your Grace. I should never have presumed to speak to you that way. If you could speak to His Grace's men, we'd be most grateful."

"Lady Westerling, I'm a very patient woman but under the current circumstances, I'm less so. Don't push me further with complaints such as these. Considering the results of so many battles, your situation could be far worse. Don't force me to make it even more unpleasant by confining you to your chambers or in the cells below the castle, until I depart." Deirdre had never threatened anyone quite so easily but it was either that or slapping the woman and she thought perhaps this might be more dignified. Lady Sybell's eyes widened before she begged her pardon again.

Deirdre left the room without another word. As they walked down the hall, she heard Robert chuckling and turned to look at him. "I do so hope you enjoyed that," she retorted, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Perhaps you should set Grey Wind outside their door," Ned suggested with a smirk.

Deirdre returned his smirk and continued walking to find Smalljon to relay the Westerling's complaints to him. She knew Smalljon and Black Walder had taken command during the battle. But she avoided the Freys for obvious reasons, especially Black Walder.

x-x-x

The day after he woke up, Robb was driving Deirdre to madness with his constant complaining about being forced to rest. His fever had barely broken and he still got dizzy when he tried to stand, so she told him that she'd tie him to the bed if he attempted to get up again. Jeyne checked on him frequently and that afternoon, she told Deirdre she needed to speak with her privately.

Deirdre left Robb under Dacey's close supervision since she knew Dacey was the only one who would argue if Robb attempted to command her to allow him to get out of bed. Outside the door, Jeyne said, "Lord Umber wished to speak to you most urgently but he didn't want Robb to know he was here."

Filled with a flutter of panic, Deirdre and Ned followed Jeyne to another room close by. Smalljon stood with his father, Daryn, Robert and a few others close to the Greatjon. She knew by the looks on their faces something horrible had happened and immediately her thought went to Lady Stark, since she had been in Lord Umber's care when Deirdre came to the Crag.

"What is it?" she asked quickly.

The Greatjon shook his head and she noticed he was truly suffering from the news he bore. He held out a sealed message. "Lady Stark wrote the message as soon as they received the raven from Cerwyn."

Taking the message, Deirdre's hands were shaking. Lady Stark was alive but the message from Cerwyn could only mean that it was dark words about Winterfell. Smalljon turned away when she glanced in his direction and the fact that he wouldn't face her scared her terribly. She took a deep breath and broke the seal to the message. After reading the first few lines, the world stopped and she felt herself falling into darkness.

Deirdre woke with Ned and Smalljon watching her closely. She'd been placed on the bed so the maester could check her for any injuries to her head when she fainted. She sobbed and Ned reached out to hold her hand.

"This can't be true. They were just…little boys. How could Theon…he lived in their home and watched them grow up…" she said between choking sobs. "Oh Mother have mercy…I cannot tell Robb this." She sat up.

"If you wish me to tell him…" the Greatjon offered but she saw in his eyes that he did not want the task either.

Shaking her head, she said, "No it should come from me, as Lady Stark wished. But I need to be calmer when I tell him."

The maester gave her some wine and she drank it to sooth her nerves. She forced Bran and Rickon's faces out of her mind as she asked for the letter again. She hadn't read all of it and knew she must be strong enough to do so for Robb needed to know all that it said.

"Deirdre,

I send this missive to you for these tidings I would not have my son learn from cold parchment. I scarce can force my quill to write the words for the shaking of my hand. Bran and Rickon are dead. Forgive my stating it so plainly, but there is no way to soften this blow.

We had a raven from Cerwyn. My boys escaped Winterfell and Theon Greyjoy brought them back dead. He mounted the heads of my sons on spikes on the wall of my home. The Northmen prepare to march on Winterfell, but I find little comfort in the thought of mere mortar and stone without my husband and children there. You are Robb's wife. Let him hear this evil news from your lips and perhaps find comfort in your arms.

I have no sons left to me but Robb. Please bring him safely to me. Lord Umber has other news for him, but it must wait, and he understands this.

Catelyn"

"Theon will pay for this," the Greatjon said angrily.

"But it will not bring Bran and Rickon back to life," Deirdre replied, attempting to stop the tears that flowed freely down her face. The men watched her silently until she became more composed. She had to force herself to not think about the boy's faces when she'd last seen them. "What is this other news, Lord Umber?"

"It can wait, Your Grace. I promised Lady Stark I would wait to tell the king until…after he knew about his brothers."

"I'm not the king. I must know if it's important." She wiped her tears away and stood, forcing herself to appear calm.

"Well…" The Greatjon seemed to debate if he should tell her but apparently her look told him that he should. "Lord Brax spoke to me earlier. He overheard on the way to Riverrun which of the Freys was plotting your death."

Smalljon put his hand on his father's shoulder. "Father, Ned and I will handle this until the king is…"

Deirdre hesitated. She wanted to know but knowing that might make her angry and right now she needed to be numb. "It can wait. I'll be with Robb. Grey Wind is in there plus there are guards outside the door. Doubtful anyone can harm me until Robb can be told." She took a deep breath and began walking toward the door. There was not going to be an easier time.

Smalljon and Ned followed her into Robb's room and Dacey studied them all warily, no doubt sensing something was wrong. Robb was stroking Grey Wind's neck with his good hand and glanced up with half a smile. Deirdre tried, but failed, to look emotionless as she came and sat beside him on the bed. Dacey walked to the door where the two men stood and after a moment the three of them left.

"What is it?" Robb asked, reaching for the message she still had clutched in her hand, forgotten. She didn't let him take it, instead taking his hand and bringing it to her lips.

"I must tell you something," she said quietly then swallowed hard before taking a deep breath.

"What is it?" he repeated anxiously.

"Robb," she began and bit back a sob. "It's Bran and Rickon. They're both…they're…they're dead."

First, he looked shocked then he shook his head in disbelief. His fingers clutched hers so hard, she feared he might break them. "No. They can't be. There must be some mistake…" She shook her head silently. "But…how? Theon wouldn't…he knows they're more valuable alive. He couldn't have…was it one of his men? Or…there must be a mistake."

"Robb, I wish with all my heart it was a mistake. It was Theon…he murdered them."

Robb's cry of anguish ripped through her heart and she reached out to take him into her embrace. Suddenly Grey Wind lunged onto the bed, howling mournfully at her. Deirdre jumped up and stared at Robb for a few moments before she realized what was happening. Robb was completely silent and still but Grey Wind's howls were terrifying and forlorn. She couldn't step closer without the direwolf crouching down over Robb, like he was shielding him from her or from the world around them. Deirdre heard voices calling her name outside causing Grey Wind to growl viciously at the door.

Ned burst into the room with Dacey on his heels but both stopped short when Grey Wind crouched down like he was going to attack.

"Leave!" Deirdre yelled quickly.

"It's not safe for you," Ned stepped toward her, but Grey Wind tensed again and he froze. "You know what is happening."

"He won't hurt me Ned. Just go," Deirdre replied, trying to calm her voice. She sensed the wolf would respond to any fear in her voice. Turning, she looked Ned in the eyes and nodded reassuringly. He hesitated but finally left, pulling Dacey with him.

As soon as they left, the direwolf howled once more then turned, his eyes watching her. He whimpered like he was injured and Deirdre said to Robb, as calmly as she could, "Robb, my love, I need you to...come back. Please."

Grey Wind whimpered awhile longer, holding his head down. After a few moments of silence, she heard Robb take a ragged breath and he looked at her with fearful eyes, full of tears.

"I could have hurt you," he said, attempting to stand.

"No, you wouldn't have. Don't get up. Just please get Grey Wind off the bed," she said, her voice shaky. Her hands were trembling. It was the first time the wolf had ever scared her and knowing Robb had warged into him completely, terrified her. He got the direwolf off the bed and she said, "I need to tell Ned and Dacey that we're all right."

She opened the door and found Ned, Dacey, Smalljon, and Lord Umber pacing outside the door. "It's fine. No one is hurt," was the only explanation she gave. Ned's look told her that she'd have to have a much longer talk with him later. When she came back into the room, Robb watched her silently, tears streaming down his face.

"I could have killed you," he whispered. "I feared this day would come."

"Robb, you wouldn't have hurt me," she assured him with a gentle smile as she sat beside him again. She ran her hand through his thick curls and kissed his forehead. "You said it only happened when you were tired, weak, or vulnerable. I cannot imagine a time where you could be anymore weak or vulnerable, yet Grey Wind did not attempt to bite me. Please, do not worry about that now."

He leaned into her neck and she felt his tears running down her skin and seeping into the fabric of her dress. "It's my fault. I trusted Theon, then I allowed Bolton to convince me not to march North. I might as well have killed them myself," he whispered. The anguish and guilt in his voice was like a blade in her heart. He was clutching her so tightly that she could not pull back to see his face.

"No one, even those who doubted the sense in trusting Theon, ever thought he was capable of this. I disliked him more than most people and never thought he could kill a child. Plus Bran and Rickon as hostages was his only way to ensure that no one stormed Winterfell," she replied. She kissed his shoulder and continued to stroke his hair. She felt so helpless to comfort him, but there was nothing to be said or done to heal this pain.

When Eddard Stark died, it had been a horrible tragedy for everyone who loved him but in his situation, imprisoned by Cersei and Joffrey, there was always the threat of that happening. Bran and Rickon's home had been invaded but surely Theon knew he'd have no chance of surviving if he killed them. Besides, as much as she hated Theon, she didn't think he had it in him to murder two children he'd watched growing up. Especially since he had once saved Bran's life. Tears filled her eyes but she forced them away. She needed to be strong for Robb now. Her tears must wait. He was trembling and she wasn't sure if it was weakness and physical pain due to his injury or his grief and devastation that was making him do so. She finally was able to pull away enough to look at his face.

"Robb, please lie down," she said, easing him back onto the bed with gentle and firm hands. "I know you're mourning, but re-injuring yourself won't help."

"Don't leave me," he whispered, clutching her arm.

"I'm right here," she said, lying beside him and wrapping her arm around his waist. "I won't let you go until you're ready." She stroked the soft skin over his ribcage and watched his face. "I know you'll never believe this but what happened wasn't your fault."

"You're right; I won't believe that. I was a fool to trust Theon and then trust Bolton even though I doubted his suggestion. Then I turned right around and put you through hell because I couldn't trust you. Why wasn't I more wary of them than you?"

Propping herself up on her elbow she said, "Because you've known Theon for so many years you trusted him to be the person you thought he was. Bolton's advice was within moments of finding out you'd been betrayed. It sounded like the right choice. Also, because you had two sisters captive in the south and two brothers in the north: it was less likely that Theon would hurt the boys and Sansa and Arya are with people that murdered your father."

Watery blue eyes turned to hers and he said, "Winterfell has been held by the Starks for eight thousand years. It has never been conquered. And I lost it in less than a year. I trusted my brothers' lives to the man who I knew had just betrayed me. They made me a king and I'm little more than a fool. I put my desire to avenge my father before my brother's lives. I couldn't bring him back from the dead, yet I didn't keep my brothers safe and they were alive."

"Robb, it isn't your fault. Blaming and punishing yourself won't bring them back," she whispered but did not know the words to sooth him.

"My mother will never forgive me. She blamed me for trusting Theon…"

"I didn't sense any blame from her message. She wanted me to tell you rather than you finding out from a message so I could comfort you, plus she asked me to bring you back to her safely. No one blames you. The blame is solely on Theon, no one else. The whole north hated him for taking Winterfell. They'll put him through the seven levels of hell before he dies, I assure you, Robb."

Robb gripped her arm and pulled her to him again. Deirdre felt her heart breaking into thousands of pieces and she couldn't force the tears from her eyes this time as the thoughts of Rickon's laughter or non-stop energy and Bran's gentle smiles and soulful eyes. They held each other tightly.

Deirdre told his guards and men that they wished to be alone for the rest of the day. Smalljon took Grey Wind out to let him hunt then kept him guarding outside their door.

Robb made love to her twice that night, each time seeming to need her more. Afterwards she held him until he fell into a fitful sleep. Only when he slept, did she allow her tears to finally fall. She rose and walked to the window, looking into the night, wondering how much more loss Robb could bear. The baby had been strangely calm that day but tonight he was active. She prayed for her child. Although a son could never replace his brothers, she knew Robb would feel so much joy when their child was born. He'd said he didn't care if it was a son or daughter but she knew he needed an heir. Perhaps if this one was a boy, they could wait until they had a safe place for their family before they had anymore. She wanted a home for her son. And an end to this war at last.