Odd Thursday! Sorry about editing and lateness, found this part to be like chewing on something rubbery for a long time.
Chapter Seven – In the North
It was not what they expected. Nearly four months since her last moon's blood they had returned to the North. Myra had told Robb of all that happened in his absence, of her visions of red eyes and flames, of the leech, of how his mother had gone mad when she thought he had died and Lord Frey had ordered his mother's death when he thought Robb was dead. As his nose had trailed mournfully over the mark on her chest, she did not know how to tell bring up her hand in the flames. It seemed so much had happened since they had arrived this far North. News had reached them of King Joffery being poisoned at his wedding, Tyrion Lannister had been accused of the scheme. Robb had fretted over the strength of the Queen regent's word alone, as he had put his trust in the promise of Tyrion, however Robb felt it was more important to reclaim Winterfell. Lord Edmure, for all of the horrors of his wedding had been pleased with his bride and had returned to his seat at Riverrun with his recently pregnant wife to keep the Riverlands well protected, Tywin Lannister was still in the hands of Lady Mormont and the five high-born Lannisters travelled North with them. Myra had felt sad for the children some were scared others seemed prideful.
There were five children. Myra had met them when they had first arrived at Riverrun but her mind had been in such a state and she had been such a shell that she could not remember. They were of varying ages but they all looked blonde and similar. Their names were Martyn, Tryek, "Red" Walder, Janei and Myrcella. Princess Myrcella… Robb had said Cersei's face had nearly turned blue and that he had to remind her of her brother's life in the balance before she agreed.
Myrcella was nothing like her mother according to Robb's account. When Myra looked at the girl she could help but be reminded of Jaime, who had now lost both his true born son and daughter. The girl's eyes looked the exactly the same green of Jaime's when he was…well, if Myra was honest with herself, when he was not being a smug arse. The girl was gentle and sweet, quick to smile, she asked after Sansa and Ayra and was fond of Bran and Rickon. Though she missed her family much as the rest of the children, Myra did her best to cheer them up. They played games and told stories and soon enough it became clear that all of the Lannister children were quick to smile once they let go of the title and simply were children.
Robb kept his distance as did the wolves. They were growing so large that they spent a few hours of the day outdoors but they were usually close by. The exceptions were that Grey Wind and Silver could almost always be found in Myra's shadows.
"It is worse here Myra, much worse." Robb's heavy grey eyes roamed over the land surrounding Winterfell. "They hate me here," he squinted against the frosty wind "I can feel it. I abandoned them… I should have listened to my mother about the Greyjoys..." he shook his head at the bleak landscape. Food had grown scarce as they approached the fortress, apparently Bolton's bastard had been pooling of the supplies at the Stark fortress.
Myra wanted to comfort him but her mouth formed to speak the truth instead as she squeezed his arm and looked out at the dying plains. "They do…but only because they do not know you or how great a King you are yet." She added. "It will take time Robb… I just wish I could help…"
"Myra." His head snapped to face her. "You cannot… you help me more than you know, in truth more than even I know." He squeezed her hand affectionately in return, he huffed as he looked worriedly back over the plains.
Myra woke with a small start, she could feel something fluttering and floating around in her stomach. She raised herself on her elbows to see Robb's shaggy dark head lay on her bare stomach. She smiled giddy with pure love at the memory of Robb childishly pushing Grey Wind's resting head off her belly and taking his wolf's place every night since then.
He would speak, sometimes for Myra to hear, sometimes not. Myra had asked one night what he had said, he responded by kissing the soft skin on her stomach gently tugging some at of the growing flesh as he did, then turning his head to face her with a playful glint in his warm grey eyes "Your mother is such a nosy little dragon." Myra had gasped at him, making a humourously insulted face and chuckling when he gently nipped at the skin on her belly and went back to whispering to their unborn child.
Myra would play with his hair, eventually drifting off to sleep, often waking to find him asleep drooling on her. His hot breath feathering up her belly or down… When she would embarrassedly nudge him awake he was happy to satisfy the rush of heat she felt. He would also rub aloe perfoliata on the dry skin that was appearing on her stomach, he would find the humour in her frustration over a largely flat stomach that did not match her feelings of being huge. Myra had gotten over her shyness of using a chamber pot with Robb in the room, after getting up three times in a night she had stopped caring if he saw her or heard her. She had also stopped caring if he heard her belch she could not seem to hold it in, when he laughed she reminded him that their baby's burp had woken him. Recently the gas and the constant need to relieve herself had eased, and for the first time tonight she felt something new.
"Robb" she whispered, spotting Silver and Grey Wind's eyes following her movement from their place on the floor of the tent.
"Mmm" he felt his grumble vibrate through her body, as he burrowed his face into her stomach.
"Robb" she tried again, Myra pulled a little on his dark hair "I felt him move."
That caught Robb's attention, he knelt next to her on the mattress with his hands on her stomach "You felt her?" his expression was filled with excited wonder as he looked down at his hands over her slightly pudgy stomach.
Myra nodded "Just lightly, it felt as though he were scurrying across my insides…"
"That's my brilliant little girl! Scurrying like a little wolf pup already…" he leaned forward and kissed Myra's belly, trailing his mouth up Myra's body to kiss her happily and heatedly on the mouth.
Winterfell had been horrible, many of the Iron born and Bolton men had fled the wrecked fortress. Before entering the place Myra had made sure to talk to Rickon and Bran about what they may find, though she had not been wholly sure herself.
"It could be as empty as that patch of snow." Bran had remarked, clearly remembering Myra's burned down home.
"It could…it could go either way." Myra amended.
"Or in between?" Rickon chimed in.
"Or in between, little pup." Myra had repeated with an affectionate tussle of his brown hair.
Once Robb and his men had deemed it safe, and made sure that there were no infestations or traps, they were allowed entry. The grey walls of the fortress had been charred black in some places, the banners of the flayed Bolton men hung, where Stark banners should have been.
It felt as though walking through an abandoned town, the mist clung to the air and there were eerie echoes and shadows everywhere. The tapestries were tattered, rubbish lined the halls and rooms, blood stains dried on walls and sheets … a grim stink stuck to everything.
Apparently the first party in had found the remains of the men who had not survived and had buried what was left of them, Maester Luwin and a great number of women among them. Those who had been forced into service of the ruling Bolton bastards had wept and sniveled in fear when Robb had questioned them.
Myra wanted to hate them for what they had done to Winterfell and the people who had healed her, but as she saw them weep she realized that such men were victims as well. They felt disgust at what had to see and do under the rule of this Bolton person, who had runaway shortly before their arrival.
Bran and Rickon had looked utterly defeated, when she moved away from Robb and closer to them in the courtyard. Bran had gone into Hodor's hands the giant man had been painted as a jester, if he had suffered the large man either did not show it or know it. The wolves worked their way around the castle sniffing out possible dangers.
As Myra looked at the boys' solemn faces she felt at a loss herself.
"It looks different than what I remember." Mrycella had stepped next to Myra startling the silver-haired girl and spoken with her soft voice.
"It does..." Myra nodded, "but we will rebuild." She felt the baby flutter in her stomach and it occurred to Myra that it was time to reveal something. She placed her arm over her easily hidden belly, remembering the change in Lady Catelyn and Robb when they had discovered she was to have a baby. Myra only hoped it would be the same for the whole family. "I am- I mean, Robb and I... we are having a baby." She turned her head to smile down at Rickon, then up at Bran. "You are going to be uncles."
"A baby?" Rickon gaped her.
Myra nodded, she was suddenly doubting herself, finding it difficult to swallow. Her eyes darted to Bran, who seemed to be stunned.
"That's wonderful!" Myrcella squealed, pulling on Myra's arm.
"Thank you Myrcella," Myra smiled at the enthusiastic girl.
"We'll rebuild." Bran spoke up, smiling now lightly as well. "We have to before they get here..." his brown eyes went to Myra's midriff, "and before Sansa and Ayra get here."
Rickon nodded eagerly as Myra spoke, "Perfect."
Over the next two weeks Robb had laid his parents to rest in the crypts of Winterfell and had received word from his brother, Jon, who had become Lord Commander of the Night's Watch at the Wall. There had been a battle North of the Wall and Jon, like Osha, had fear regarding what was coming from the lands of the constant winter. He added that had Stannis not come to the aid of the Night's Watch there would likely be no Night's Watch and the Wall would have fallen. Robb had made a comment about how both he and his brother had spent their eighteenth name-days fighting, which had caused Myra to become irrationally angry at his not telling her that his name-day had passed so early in the year.
After he had cooed her out of her fit, Myra could let herself see the holes in the stories that were bothering Robb. Jon had said that Stannis had no luck in getting any Northerns on his side, he had tried helping the Night's Watch and freeing the small-folk from the Bolton bastard's deathly grip. Stannis and Jon had believed he was fighting the Greyjoys at first but it soon became very obvious the bastard of Bolton was the one to defeat. According to varying reports Balon Greyjoy had died on the Iron Islands which made Myra wonder where and how Theon fit into all of the happenings following the Bolton departure from Winterfell.
No one seemed to know his fate.
Nonetheless, it became clear that the Boltons had insinuated that Stannis was to take control of the North, so that they could maintain a seat of trust and legitimacy at Robb's table all the while painting Stannis as a horrible villain and master coordinator of the Red Wedding, as the grizzly event had been named when news spread.
Stannis and Robb had agreed to meet just outside of Winterfell's ashy walls due course, the meeting would have to be postponed to a later time as both of the men and their troops had been chasing the Iron born back to the Iron Islands and searching for Roose Bolton's bastard son, Ramsay Snow.
He was a monster. Myra had been convinced of this.
Robb had been utterly disturbed by what he had heard and had not wanted to share what he had reported back to him with anyone who did not have to hear it. Myra heard what the survivors whispered about as she helped them clean the ruins of Winterfell.
The Bolton bastard had released women into the woods to hunt them in the night, he flayed men, he betrayed Robb without remorse, and tortured others for fun. The way they described it had made Myra feel dirty.
Which why she found herself in the godswood, which was perhaps the only place that had remained peaceful amidst the chaos. The violence of the fighting had made it less warm but it remained a calm quiet place of solitude. The godswood truly been some of the only solitary time for her, she had nothing that she could think of to say to the gods so she simply enjoyed the quiet. Grey Wind was with Robb running out the remaining Greyjoys and strengthening their defenses against Stannis' impending arrival. While Silver had taken to sleeping throughout most of the day.
Myra plucked out a series of native plants she recognized as she made her way through the godswood tying them into bushels. Slowly room by room, beginning with the children's bedrooms, she opened windows and burned the plants raising the smoking bundles to the corners of each room and letting the clean smell sink in. It seemed important to Myra that the children, including the non-Northern children, find a way to be comfortable and at home in the pit Winterfell had become.
Sure enough the sense of the place had changed. Things were coming together, once Robb had freed the North and ensured the safety and food supplies of the people they could begin rebuilding. Myra was happily thinking this when she heard a shout from the open window, while burning more herbs.
Myra stomach had yet to become noticeable, the women she had met on the road and those who remained at Winterfell had told the violet eyed girl to stop worrying and spoke of their envy over the lack of her symptoms.
At any rate the want of a belly allowed Myra to run to the courtyard when called, where she saw a grey lump, a skeleton of a man, who was really a boy. Robb was still gone with Grey Wind and Silver was asleep still, likely under the stairs of the courtyard.
"Theon…" Myra gasped, truly shocked by his deteriorated state. She told the men holding him up to back away. Theon collapsed. He was barely recognizable some of his teeth were missing, three of his fingers were missing skin and infected, four others looked limp as though they were missing bones.
"Reek, Reek rhymes with sneak…" his dirty craggy face held his blue eyes that peered up at Myra from the ground. "Do not weep. Hate women weeping…" he spoke with a vein of anger in his tone.
"I'm not weeping Theon." Myra did not know how to take him, she certainly did not feel much like crying, but she felt a desire to help. So she knelt by him to see how she could do so. "What did Ramsay Snow do to you?"
"Don't call him Snow. It's Lord Ramsay or he'll make you pay." He grinned at her through his splintered teeth and cracked lips, his eyes flickered with delirium.
She asked the guards to take him to a free clean room, they listened to her though their anger at Theon was apparent when they realized who they had come upon. They were not particularly gentle. Maester Luwin's apprentice, Lowel, had helped her with other injured parties they had found and helped her with Theon now. Theon's flayed, infected fingers had savage bite marks at their bases. The marks looked too small to be anything but human. Myra could not imagine the pain he would have had to go through to consider biting off his own fingers.
Harrion Karstark informed her of where Theon had been found, wandering the snowy drift close by, rambling on about escaping Stannis and someone named Reek. The men had not recognized him and assumed that his name was Reek.
Theon had passed out completely by the time Myra and the Maester began cutting off his ruined fingers so that the infection would not spread. As she looked at the Greyjoy, who had said stupid things and was humorously proud and had threatened Bran before her eyes, she could not help but feel pity. "Idiotic dolt," she muttered with sadness in her heart for the boy Theon had been. The Maester began on the second finger. Myra took in a deep breath. "Robb is going to kill me…"
Robb had not been impressed by Myra's care of Theon when he returned. He had demanded time alone with the Greyjoy, the fury storming in Robb's grey eyes gave Myra reason to be anxious over Theon safety. She barely knew herself when she made Robb promise not to kill Theon, though a few harsh words would be acceptable in her view.
Robb had left the chamber, making sure that Theon would not try to take his own life nor have any means to do so, he assigned guards to the Greyjoy's door and did not visit him anymore than that.
"He is a proper arse and all around bastard, but…" Robb had shrugged to her that night upon entering their bedchamber.
"He was your dearest friend and he's been snapped in some way…" Myra had nodded back from the bed, running her hand over her stomach. She had lifted her gaze to see him smiling sadly at her, he nodded crawling up her body, sighing against the smell of her skin.
It had been a week since Theon impromptu arrival. Masons had started work repairing towns, roads, and eventually Winterfell itself. Robb had more time to concentrate on the welfare of the people as the lands became safe and the Lords retook their rightful seats. He had yet to decide what to do with the Lordship over Dreadfort and had some stresses over whom exactly of Bolton's men to punish. But slowly things had grown closer to good again. In a week they would meet with Stannis for the first time with the banners Robb kept camped near the fortress in case the meeting turned sour.
His dark head rested on the higher part of her bare stomach which remained mostly flat while the area just below her belly button was growing bigger and curving out. They talked of the day and Myra had aired her dread over her 'duty' to be present at such a formal reception as a parley with Stannis. Robb had chuckled at her grumbling and promised to make it as painless as possible, then he kissed her belly, whispering to himself and their baby.
"Whoa!" There was a feeling of a pop and spasm low in Myra's stomach. She jerk sitting up so Robb's head fell into her lap, she might have let herself be distracted if she was not so fascinated with running her fingers over her belly.
"What was that!" Robb sat up, looking more worried than amused by how she had move and where he had landed. Myra gasped she felt the twitch on her stomach again, she could be sure if the feeling was only from the inside and she was imagining the kick, kick, kick.
"Here!" She excitedly dragged Robb's large, rough palms towards her stomach. "Talk again."
"Myra, wha…" his mouth was left hanging open, as their child kick at him. He looked between Myra and his hands. Smiling on the verge of tears. Myra felt her heart melt. "I've felt Sansa and the rest when my mother… this is different..." he shook his head, biting his lip as though his were containing his laughter. The baby moved again. "That's my girl."
Suddenly his arms were wrapped around Myra's body. Their legs were tangled together and Robb sniffed along the nape of her neck kissing and laughing as he went, holding her as tightly as he could. "I was speaking to our daughter about names…" he finished with kiss against Myra's smiling lips.
"And what did he help you decide on?"
"She and I are against choosing the names of our parents for her…" that caused Myra's violet eyes to widen out of their blissful stupor. As sweet as she would have found it to name her child after her mother, Myra thought it would be awkward to speak or call her mother's and Robb's parents' names on a daily basis.
"I agree…" she smiled at him when he raised his head.
"Good." He breathed through his open kiss against her mouth. Things were truly becoming good.
Stannis was to arrive at the meeting point in four days. Myra and Bran had been rebuilding their relationship after they had uncovered the archery target in the courtyard and found bow and arrows to practice with.
She had told him that she loved him and he had come to accept her treatment of Jaime Lannister, though it did not mean that he himself would ever talk to the man. They discussed Osha's leaving and Myra asked about his visions, which were more frequent and vivid than any of the other boys' and her own. The red eyes continued to haunt her and she felt it was unfair to have Bran confide in her and not do the same in return.
They were returning from their practice with Summer and Silver nearby. Bran was joking in Hodor's arms about her being cross-eyed as a marksman, when he stopped talking and focused on a spot over her shoulder.
"I told you to leave!" A guard's voice called out in the distance behind her.
"Your grace, I would have the honour of asking for an audience with the King…" Myra heard a different withered voice speak, she had turned to see man with long grey hair, cloaked in brown folded in a deep bow. He seemed to be carrying something against his chest.
"None of that sir and please call me Myra. The King has gone out patrolling if…" the old man stood up and Myra could see what he held.
"I said LEAVE!" The guard came closer.
"I-it…" Myra tried to find her tongue. "It's fine." She gestured the guard back. Her eyes had not moved from the boy in the old man's arms. A boy with dark, wavy hair, familiar grey eyes and Robb Stark's countenance. "Wh-wha…" Myra felt her mouth become heavy as a question she did not want to ask pushed against her teeth.
"I am Aldric, your grace. This is Maldric, he has four name-days and has been my ward since his mother passed over two months ago." The kindly looking old man trailed off.
The silence of what he was not saying was deafening for Myra.
"A-and?" She spoke her violet eyes wide and her throat thick with emotions she couldn't fully understand.
The older man hesitated... his eyes shifting between her, the crowd steadily gathering in the courtyard and the boy, "Perhaps we should..."
"Tell me." Myra croaked her gaze stuck on the dark haired child.
Inching slightly forward, the whispered as though he wished to retain some privacy. However, the guard stepped before him again so he had to speak up to be heard. "He is the King's son, Your Grace."
Her breath halted in her chest. Surely her heart had stopped and time stood still.
"WHAT?" Robb's voice suddenly boomed through the courtyard, before she could think to respond in truth Myra had not even noticed her lord husband and his men enter.
Myra's stunned stare remained on the quiet boy in Aldric's grasp, he looked scared. Though her eyes brimmed with water and her voice broke a little she tried smiling at the boy. "Don't be afraid." She spoke softly yet she knew that the boy heard her.
"Myra." Robb had moved to stand next to her.
She looked up at him tears threatening to spill over. "He's your son Robb..." the longer she looked into his little grey pleading eyes the harder Myra found it to breath, she crossed her arms. "I can't talk to you right now. I-I'm just going to lay down…"
Robb nodded slowly, his eyes digging into her skin. "I will see you soon." He pressed a kiss to her forehead, releasing his grip on her. At her door she had thanked Bran for knowing precisely when to be silent and realized that Grey Wind had been a few paces behind them.
And in her room, as she had many months ago Myra had sat on her bed and hugged Silver murmuring into her glowing pelt. "What should I do? I wish mother were here" Silver pushed against her as though trying to offer her strength. "Thank you girl." She felt Grey Wind nuzzle against her knee, she patted his head "You too boy."
Phew! That was a run and a half. Was determined to finish. Really don't wanna give up. Note that the wards have been made much younger than their ages in the books, just to be nice 'n' convenient.