Hullo! :D

My brain is just kaput. Like seriously. This week was dreadful and it took its toll on me. So sorry if this chapter sucks.

Thanks to The Lady Bard for the beta! Mwah!

There's still the poll on my profile...I'll probably close it by the end of the week.

Also, check out 'War Is Coming', a Lord of the Rings and Game of Thrones crossover! It's by me and my dear friend, Charlotte.

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Enjoy!

Elira

Another arrow landed in the target with a solid thwack, a sound she had grown accustomed to during the last few weeks. With Cat gone, all of her duties fell on the shoulders of Elira. While Robb was off being the Lord of Winterfell, with Luwin always by his side, she was left alone with Brandon and Rickon. Luckily, Theon Greyjoy was around to keep her and the children company, and he helped her out if she needed it. Under his selfish and egoistic exterior, he was a kind, caring and genuine person. Of course, he only showed his softer side when they were alone. He often stayed up late with her when Robb wasn't around to help her deal with her pregnancy. On more than one occasion did he have to run up and down the stairs several times to get whatever food she craved from the kitchens. He also learned to deal with her frequent mood swings, and for that, she was thankful.

Elira snapped her fingers in front of Brandon's face, trying to regain his attention. "Bran, sweet? Come on, you have to finish your lessons." She pointed to Pyke on the map of Westeros Maester Luwin had lent her.

He sighed and rested his chin on his hand. "The Iron Islands. Sigil, a kraken. Words, 'We Do Not Sow.'" Another one of Theon's arrows hit the center of the target.

"Good," she praised. "What about their lords?"

"The Greyjoys."

Theon turned around, his infamous smirk present on his smug face. "Famed for their skill at archery, navigation, and lovemaking." He laughed loudly and winked at Elle. She glared at him, not amused. He frowned and strung another arrow, facing the target once more. Despite being seven years senior to her, she often felt older than him in their relationship, much like with her twin. When Ryker leaves, Theon stays.

"Next one," she declared, pointing to King's Landing.

"Sigil, a stag. A crowned stag, now that Robert's king." Bran dug into the wooden table with one of his mother's silver trout brooches. "Words, 'Ours is the Fury.' Lords, the Baratheons." Elle nodded and pointed to Casterly Rock. "The Westerlands. Sigil, a lion. Words, 'A Lannister Always Pays His Debts.'"

"No." She held back a sigh; he wasn't concentrated today at all. She felt as if it was partially her fault, since she was sitting here making him recite the houses for the umpteenth time. "A common saying, yes, but not the official house words."

He looked at her and narrowed his blue eyes. "Lords, the Lannisters-"

"Brandon, we're still on their words." She clenched her jaw tightly, meeting his icy gaze.

"I don't know them-"

"Yes, you do." She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Gods, why must all Starks be so bloody stubborn? "We did this just yesterday-"

"So I shouldn't have to repeat them today." He held the silver trout so tightly, she feared that it would pierce a hole in his hand.

The girl pinched the bridge of her nose. "You're being very unreasonable."

"'Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken,'" Brandon gritted out. "The Lannister words."

"That's House Martell. I know you know that." Theon looked at her over his shoulder, a small smile playing on his lips. She shot him a pleading gaze. He just shook his head, chuckling silently.

"'Righteous in Wrath.'" The boy continued to dig into the table.

"That's House Hornwood," Elle replied, annoyed.

"'Family, Duty, Honor.'" She didn't miss the tiny smirk on Brandon's face.

"Those are the Tully words. Your mother's." She pursed her lips together and set the maps back down on the table. "Come now. What's wrong?"

"'Family, Duty, Honor,'" He repeated, feigning innocence. "Is that the right order?"

"You know it is."

"Family comes first." His anger vanished, sadness and regret replacing it.

Realization dawned on Elira. "Your mother had to leave Winterfell," she spoke slowly and was careful with her words; she didn't want to upset the boy again. "She went to protect the family. Sweet, you know what happened-"

"How can she protect the family, if she's not with her family?" He stopped picking at the table and tossed the brooch from one hand to the other.

She lowered her voice and put her hand on his arm. "Do you know how hard it was for her to leave?" She remembered all the tears that were shed on the day Lady Catelyn left Winterfell. Her mental list kept on going. Ryker. Olyver. Arabelle. Mother, Father, Uncle. Emont, Flora. Ned. Sansa. Arya. Jon. Catelyn.

"She still left," Bran snapped. He paused for a moment and took a deep breath. "Robb promised that he would take me riding today." The boy scowled. "But no, he's too busy for me now."

"Brandon, don't be like that," she pleaded, brushing his long hair away from his face. "You know he's Lord of Winterfell now. He has a lot of things to do and to worry about."

"He'd have fewer things to worry about if Mother were here," he spat, as if the words had a bad taste in his mouth. "Do you know when she's coming back?"

"She'll be home soon."

"Do you know where she is now? Today?"

She closed her eyes and leaned back into her seat. "I honestly have no idea." The Lady of Winterfell rested her hands on her slightly swollen stomach. Her lips twitched upwards at the corners; Robb was practically counting down the days until the baby arrived. Whenever he'd see her, he'd put his hands on her belly to feel for movement, or he'd kneel down and press his ear against it, hoping to hear a heartbeat.

"Then how can you promise me she'll be home soon?"

"I'm afraid I can't answer that question," Elira admitted sheepishly. "Your mother will be home when she is home." She opened her hazel eyes and watched Bran. "Go play with your brother. You've had enough lessons for today." He eyed her with wary blue eyes before springing out of his seat. He ran off in search of Rickon, his direwolf, Summer, loping behind him.

"Did he give you a rough time, or what?" the ward teased. Theon began to clean up the archery range.

Elle snorted and rolled her eyes. She crossed her arms over her chest and frowned at the Ironborn. "Fat help you were, Greyjoy."

She found her husband in his study late at night. An almost empty pitcher of ale was next to him on the table. He was holding his head in his hands, and she wasn't sure if he was awake or not. Robb mumbled something incoherent to himself and pressed the pads of his fingers to his temples.

She pulled her robe tighter around her body. "Robb, love?" Elira tried. She sat down next to him, her eyes adjusting to the dim light. "Are you alright? You've been in here all night."

"I'm fine." His words were slightly slurred and the smell of alcohol clung to him. "There are just so many things to do…" he trailed off and frowned.

"I can help you tomorrow, if you want," she offered. "I can leave Bran and Rickon with my handmaids-"

He cut her off. "Theon told me about what happened with you and Bran." He ran his hands through his curly, messy hair. "I'll talk to him tomorrow. I'm sorry-"

"Don't be," she said gently, putting a hand on his forearm. "He's upset, that's all. He has reason to be/" She leaned over and pressed her lips to his forehead. She interlaced her fingers with his. "Come to bed." She gave his hand a small tug. He smiled at her and let her lead him to their quarters.

The moment Elira closed the door to their chambers, Robb pushed her against the wall and took possession of her mouth. With frantic hands, he tore off her robe and nightshift, hastily throwing them on the floor. She undressed him as his lips explored her neck and shoulders. He kicked off his boots and carried her over to the bed.

The drinking always made him seek out her touch. It made him desperate and needy to feel her skin against his. After not seeing him for almost two days, and not making love for a week, she didn't mind. In fact, she rather liked it. She enjoyed how no one else saw him like this except her.

Robb kissed every inch of her body at a maddeningly slow pace. His lips traveled downwards and he kissed her in between her legs, making her moan and writhe underneath him. She forgot any words other than her husband's name, and even that didn't sound coherent in her ears. Elira was certain that everyone in Winterfell was able to hear her when she cried out his name as she came.

"Gods, I've missed you," Robb groaned as he thrust into her. Elle arched her back and met his lips in a heated kiss. She moaned into his mouth and wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer to her. He rolled them over so she was on top, his lips never leaving hers.

His hands and mouth roamed her body, eliciting loud moans from her. Pleasure coursed through her veins and she found it difficult to think straight. She managed to stutter out his name before she came, her hands tangled and tugging at his auburn curls. He moaned her name a moment later and gripped her hips tightly as he spilled his seed inside her.

"I love you," Elira breathed, collapsing onto his chest. She buried her face into the crook of his neck and traced random patterns on his chest with her finger. Robb kissed her shoulder and ran his hands over her belly. "Robb, there won't be much of a difference since yesterday." She let out a small chuckle and kissed his cheek.

"Was it only yesterday?" he asked, mesmerised.

She laughed and pressed a kiss to his lips. "Be patient, my wolf. He'll be here in no time."

"Still set on the babe being a boy?" he teased. She beamed and nodded, placing her hand over his on her stomach. "And I won't be able to change your mind, will I?"

She shook her head, her grin widening even more. "Not for the world."