Alright, with the votes like, six to two, it appeared that this story would be a Robbaery.

But, I come with a compromise. I have another story, this one a total Robbaery, called Heart of a Wolf. I am going on record now that this story will not be a Robbaery. I am so sorry about this voters and Robbaery fans, that I disappointed you. I hope you don't hate me, but it was for the best. To get Robbaery, I would have to kill Jeyne in the escape from Riverrun. I couldn't do that. My inner fan wouldn't let me. I hope you continue to enjoy this story as it continues, but if you are mad at me, I can't say I understand, but I do hate doing this to you. I love you all, you are all amazing, awesome people.

But this is the direction I am choosing. Thanks for the input and sorry for everything.

Disclaimer: I don't own GOT or song of ice and fire.

ROBB POV

He didn't know if it was the winter air or the fever raging through him, but the chill was seeping into his bones, like ice instead of blood was running through his veins.

He shivered again, tugging his thin, patched and frayed cloak tighter around himself, but it did little to stave off the cold. His forehead was beaded with sweat, his soaked hair sticking to his skin. His teeth were starting to chatter slightly, and he couldn't feel the tips of his fingers or his toes.

The day had been warmer then was usual with the looming winter hanging overhead. Warm sun, warm breezes, as if winter was still a long way in the future, but he could feel the cold gathering inside him, until his mind was fogged with cold damp mists.

He blinked stars from his eyes, wishing that whatever fate that the old gods had in mind for him would just play out and he would stop suffering. Sansa glanced back often, and Arya twice as much, a scowl almost melded onto her face. He knew something had passed between them, and now they worried ore for him then reaching Riverrun quickly. Grey Wind had started treating him like a small blind pup, bringing him food he caught and watching him to make sure he stuffed every bite down his throat.

He had lost his appetite long ago days past and ate little now. He was already thin, he could count his ribs underneath his black and blue skin if he wanted, and the number of wounds scattered over his body stood out in sharp relief against his bony frame.

He was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn't feel the hand tugging on his cloak, or touch his icy cold hand.

"His fever's getting worse." He heard a voice say distantly, an echo in the fog. He couldn't tell if it was Arya, or Sansa, or his mother or even Jon. He thought he saw Joffrey leering over him, his eyes alit with blood madness, but he didn't mention it to anyone.

He felt himself moving, off his horse and laying on the ground, the sun glowing as distant as a star as the world flickered black and dark before his eyes.

He tossed his head as he felt cold water trickle onto his lips. No, nothing cold, he was too cold already. He didn't want it.

"Please Robb, you have to drink. You have to have something." He heard a faint voice pleading. He turned his head towards the voice and caught a flash of red hair in the heavy, thick white mist.

"Sansa." He whispered, his voice scratchy and weak in his ears. He was sinking into the fog, and he felt a cool hand on his overheated forehead, and he relished the feeling. He leaned into the hand as much as he could, and he couldn't stop the moan from escaping his lips.

"He's delirious, the fever is getting worse. He needs a maester now." He heard another voice, even quieter then the first. He ignored the vices, their words mad no sense anyway. He saw a golden lion with eyes like green grass emerge from the mist, laughing in Joffrey's high girly voice.

"Kill him mother, I want to kill him." The lion said in his high voice, sounding odd and unnatural coming from the lion's mouth.

A silver direwolf appeared from nowhere, eyes of river blue, fur shiny like fish scales. She sank her claws in the back of the lion, but the lion threw her off and she hit the ground hard. Grey towers rose from them mist, like bars of a cage around the wolf. A man in a blood stained pink hood over his face approached and held the wolf's head back, revealing the vulnerable throat.

"No, no, don't." he tossed his head back and forth, as if to free the head of the silver wolf. "No, you can't. Don't."

"Robb, go, run!" his mother's voice made his heart jolt painfully and he withheld a shaking sob. The lion pulled back a paw and his silver claws slimed open the direwolf's throat. He screamed and writhed, like the direwolf as ruby blood spilled from the wound, a river of red and it pooled around his feet.

"No, no, NO!" he screamed, and the direwolf was gone, replaced with his mother's dying body, the light in her eyes fading.

"I'll kill them, I'll kill them all!" he shouted, struggling to move towards his mother. The mist was like chains holding him, and he could only struggle and watch.

"Robb…" his mother's hand reached towards him weakly, before it thudded to the ground and the light left her eyes."

|Robb, stop! Relax, you're alright." the voice was a faint whisper, a breath of air in his ear. He thrashed again, but the thick tendrils of smoke and mist were snaking around his arms, binding him, dragging him deep into their folds where he couldn't breathe, couldn't see, couldn't move in the pearly vapor.

Then he felt his mind slipping, falling away into another place. Another mind with another set of eyes to see form…

He was lying on his stomach, his side pillowing his companion's head as he gasped and choked for breath. A thin reedy noise, a whisper of air was all he could manage. He was choking to death on air.

He nudged the head as it turned weakly towards him, his neck loose and muscles too weak to hold it steady. Meanwhile, it was as if his body was possessed by a demon. It thrashed and flailed, struggling to free itself from invisible bonds. He looked at the face of the boy, scraped and thin and open eyes glassy and unseeing. Like dead eyes after he killed his prey.

The small human girl kneeled by his side, the one with the muddy dark hair and the living wolf sister shook his shoulders and said "He's not breathing. Sansa, what do we do?"

The older girl with hair like fire pushed loose strands from her face and said "I don't, I don't know. He might, he might be ready to die."

The little girl growled like a wolf, her lip curling back as she hissed "I won't give up on him. I won't we can't let him die Sansa, he's our brother."
She shook his shoulders again, and his head flopped like a dead fish. His eyes rolled back into his head, the brilliant river blue almost gone.

"Robb, wake up. Please Robb, we need you."

The fire haired girl looked to him immediately. She locked eyes with him and he read the message that she wouldn't dare speak out loud.

"I know you're in there."

He lost his control, and the wolf took command of his movements. He turned on his hand, splinted with twigs and strips of cloth from the hem of his trousers. He took the hand gently in his teeth and bit down enough for the tips of his teeth to dig into the skin.

There was a blinding bolt of pain that lanced through him to his core, and he was flying, ripped away and soaring through darkness…

He blinked and groaned, his broken fingers in Grey Wind's teeth dropping to the ground immediately. He tried to look the direwolf in the eye, but his eyes skipped around out of his control.

Arya threw her arms around his neck, and he felts streaks of tears on his shoulder. She realized what she was doing and pulled away, punching him in the forearm.

"Don't you ever do that again or I swear, I'll set Nymeria on you." She said angrily, but under the threat he knew she was relieved.

Sansa wiped a tear from her cheek and said "You were dying Robb. You heart was barely beating, you weren't breathing."

He blinked and tried to focus on Sansa's face. Grey Wind nudged his head again, licked his ear like a little pup and he ruffled his fur with a weak hand.

Nymeria was beside Arya, her eyes watching him with relief, as if sensing Arya's relief that he was still breathing.

With Sansa's help and Grey Wind supporting his weight, he sat up with the direwolf pressed against his back.

"How long, what happened?" he asked. His mind was looping in circle, making it hard for him to get his thoughts straight. He barely remembered anything. There had been a nightmare, he knew that much, but it was fuzzy and dark and he could bring no image to mind.

Sansa said nothing, offering him the water skin and he took a swallow. The cold water only chilled him to the bone.

"Come on, we're close to Riverrun. Maybe half a day's ride. We'll lash to the saddle if we have to." Arya said.

"They did end up tying him to the saddle, his body so weak that it was a struggle to stay sitting up on his own. He forced his eyes open, not willing to sink into the cold wet mist that clung like a second skin to his mind. His mind felt in a haze, not thinking or able to understand anything. It wasn't the mist, but it was like a waking sleep.

He could barely string his thoughts together, but one thing was clear enough to send a shiver down his spine.

He was getting weaker, and he needed help soon. Or it might be too late.

JEYNE POV

Three days previous…

They escaped under the heavy cloak of darkness, Edmure Tully, Roslin and two other lords, including the Greatjon. The Blackfish refused to leave, saying he would defend the keep for them. She could tell by Edmure's dark face that he was unhappy leaving his castle, but she also knew that he understood that it was necessary. And it made him bitter.

Catelyn Stark had handled her little brother well, stroking his ego and making him feel important like he wanted. Jeyne had no time to pick her way through that battlefield, so she stormed, making him accept her point. The ferocity that she had possessed had scared her.

The Lannister camp was aglow with red and gold and firelight, the shadows of watching men dancing along the hills. The river roared as it rushed by, a current of rolling, seething water. The winds were strong that day, and the sound of the river masked their feet on stone.

They took the secret entrance that Edmure had led Roslin and Robb and Greatjon Umber through as they had returned. As she slipped inside the tunnel, she whispered too softly for the others to hear.

"Robb, forgive me."

She felt her heart aching for abandoning him. She only prayed that this plan would prove folly and that the Blackfish would hold Riverrun till Robb returned and they would return from Seagard and she would kiss him and promise to never let him leave her side again.

The sky was dark, the moon only a sliver in the sky to light their way. As they passed through the tunnel, the only sound their breathing and the water sloshing around their ankles. Jeyne couldn't help but wonder where Robb was now. She knew he had taken his sister Sansa with him from King's Landing. He had never spoken much of his family, with his brothers burnt, and the bastard on the Wall and his sisters lost or in enemy hands, it was a bad thing to bring up.

Soon, they were in open air, and it felt oddly liberating to be out of Riverrun. She took a deep breath of air, and tugged Robb's cloak tighter around her shoulders. Greatjon went to her side and said "Come on Your Grace, we have to move before the Lannisters find out that we escaped."

Jeyne nodded and they ran under the cover of darkness. They made it out of sight of the walls before there were shouts and bobbing torches heading towards them.

"Run." The Greatjon hissed, grabbing her arm and pulling her along, her feet stumbling as she tried to keep up with his long strides. Roslin ahead of her was running as fast as she could, and Jeyne thanked the gods that the Blackfish had them wear trousers and not dresses.

Soon, shouts drifted over. Greatjon cursed under his breath, and said "Protect the queen. Tully, take her ahead, GO!"

Edmure grabbed her arm and pulled her along. Greatjon Umber faced the six men on horseback. He pulled the ax from the folds of his cloak and roared, striking one man in the head, cleaving it in half. Jeyne felt her stomach twist at the sight and she swallowed the sting of bile that tickled at her throat. She tore her eyes from the blood of the man pooling underneath his corpse and turned forward, running as fast as she could with Roslin and Edmure before her.

Greatjon roared again, and some part of her mind not stricken with panic wondered if they could hear him all the way back at the camps, or if they would only stumble on their corpses in the morning.

"Come on Jeyne, you have to run faster." Roslin urged from ahead of her. She nodded, gasping for breath already. She couldn't imagine walking all night, or running if the Lannisters brought back with them more men.

Then, she heard the sound of horses and Greatjon's hoarse whisper "Get on the horses and ride as fast as you can northwest."

He brought her a horse, and she saw the dead rider's blood staining his saddle. She shivered and mounted the horse, ignored the warm wetness the spread across her trousers at her knee and she urged the horse faster onwards, following the group of men on horseback and Roslin who looked as uncomfortable in a saddle as she did. She ignored the bouncing in the saddle and the pain that was already starting to build in her thighs and small of her back as she and the others rode hard for the sea.

Three days later…

Seagard was a small keep, but it was strong enough to last under siege for a week at least the captain of their boat, a man called Cail, had taken them straight to Seagard, keeping close eyes on the Iron Islands that lay in the west. Jeyne had not forgotten how Theon Greyjoy, an Iron Islander, had betrayed her husband after ten years of friendship. She had no trust for the Iron born, and it seemed the Mallisters shared her qualms.

They had landed at night, under black sails and a silence as if afraid to wake the town. They were taken immediately to the keep and met with Lord Jason Mallister.

He was a fierce looking man, with brown hair specked with white and fierce eyes that seemed to see straight inside you. He wore a purple cloak about his shoulders and a dark purple tunic with the silver eagle on his breast, the sigil of his house. He studied her with hard eyes, bluish green like the sea outside.

"What has brought the Queen in the North to my keep?" he asked her, watching her like a hawk.

She curtsied to the Lord Mallister and said "Lord Mallister, I am sorry to bring danger onto you and your people with my presence, but there was nowhere else we could go with so little time at hand."

Lord Mallister stood straighter and said "Where is it that you flee to that you would not trust even to a raven? I will have my men escort you there as soon as it is safe enough."

Jeyne curtsied again and said "Thank you my lord."

Jason waved his hand and a servant stepped forward "my servant will take you to your rooms for the night. I request an audience with the Queen in the North in the morn."

Jeyne felt nervousness roll in her stomach, much as it had on the ship when the deck beneath her feet rolled and rose and fell with the waves.

"I would be honored, Lord Mallister." She said and let the serving man lead her out of the hall, amidst the banners of House Mallister.

Greatjon nodded to Jason, who nodded back and the heavy doors closed behind them.

After a warm meal and a warmer bath, Jeyne felt herself feel almost born anew, the dirt and grime of three days hard travel gone and leaving her fresh and clean.

She turned to the sea and whispered across the water "I hope you're alright Robb."

SANSA POV

They approached Riverrun around the time that Arya said they would, maybe half a day's ride from where Robb had nearly died.

The sight of him gasping and her helpless to do anything had made a coil of steel curl around her stomach, tight and cold and wrapping tighter and tighter until she felt like she would scream with the pain.

Robb was tied to the saddle, blank faced and distant, half asleep as he was. She had no idea what had made his state of health fall so far. He was shivering and refused water and food and the look of almost pleasure at Robb's suffering was enough to make her behave like Arya and rage at him and maybe even smack him.

They approached Riverrun, and Sansa couldn't help the small bubble of hope that floated in her chest. They were so close. They would be safe inside that castle, around friends and family. She didn't remember what it felt like to be safe. She would meet her uncle for the first time, and Robb could see the maester there and he would help them and they would go back to Winterfell. They could go home.

But now, they needed to reach Riverrun first. Sansa approached slowly, every beat of Queen's hoof three beats of her racing heart. The Lannister siege camp was near the castle, which meant Lannisters could be anywhere.

"Come on Robb, just a little longer, and then you can rest." She whispered. Robb grunted, but that was all the reaction he could muster. Her heart ached for her brother, but weeping over him would get him no help. Sansa wondered faintly if she was the same person she was who left Winterfell what felt like a lifetime ago.

Arya kept Edwyn along in line, the wolves watching him with hard eyes. He hadn't attempted an escape after trying to stab Robb late in the night, and Sansa was relieved. One less worry on her already overburdened mind.

Soon the castle was in sight, along with the massive encampment of red and cold banners and tents and men and the sound of talking and laughing and celebrating.

There couldn't be laughter unless…

She dared to glance up to the battlements, where instead of a Tully flag or the Stark direwolf, a red banner with a golden lion flapped in the wind. Her heart sunk and crashed to the ground and smashed to splinters. No, they couldn't have.

Sansa imagined Joffrey's sneering face, laughing as she realized his forces had taken the only hope of life for Robb.

"Curse you." She muttered. She heard another shout and looked to where it had come from. A man, wearing chain mail and a sword at his hip, was pointing in her direction. He was shouting, for men, and Sansa steered Queen around.

As soon as she returned to where Robb and Arya were waiting following behind more slowly, she said "Riverrun's been taken over by Lannisters. Men coming this way, we have to ride."

Arya narrowed her eyes and looked more like a wolf in that moment then Sansa had ever seen her before. She flicked the reins of the horse her and Robb shared, dragging Edwyn's reins along with her.

Robb shifted and come thought seemed to have registered in his mind.

"Leave him…faster." He murmured softly, and Arya didn't even pause to think over what Robb said. She dropped Edwyn's reins and they rode their two horses the only direction Sansa could think of to escape. North.

Soon, shouts of Lannister men caught up with them. She dared to glance back and swallowed. Several Lannisters, maybe twelve, were riding after them, shouting for them to stop. Grey Wind and Nymeria growled at the men, and Sansa sent them after the men.

"Go, save us!" she shouted over the sound of her pounding heart. The direwolves turned on their pursuers, some carrying crossbows and others swords and spears.

"Gods, it's the bloody King in the North. Him and his demon wolves! Kill them!" someone shouted and Arya curses heavily.

"Ride faster!" Arya shouted, urging their horse on faster. Robb seemed to have regained his senses, and he took the reins from Arya and the horse seemed to have doubled in speed. Sansa ignored the throbbing pain in her backside and forced Queen to ride faster. The thrum of crossbow bolts echoed behind them, one flew close enough to stir her hair around her face. Another landed in the ground half a foot from Queen's flank. Then there was the sound of screaming and tearing and growling wolves.

Sansa didn't dare to glance back at the carnage behind her, only shouted "Ride Arya, ride!"

The reins slipped through Robb's fingers and Arya took them from his hand, and she flicked them hard and the horse gained speed. They left the Lannister party to the two direwolves, and Sansa could almost feel the fear the horse felt at the scent of thick blood in the air, and she skittered at the scent of wolves still.

Soon, they were far from the Lannisters and Riverrun, their only hope of safety. Sansa slowed Queen to a slow trot, and her flanks were heaving. Arya's horse was even worse, and Sansa worried that it would fall over and die from exhaustion.

They had followed the Red Fork down the Trident, and Sansa couldn't tell how far they had traveled. She dismounted, her legs aching and sore from riding so hard, so fast.

Arya jumped down and fell to the ground, her legs shaking. Sansa felt sick with fear and worry, and she also sat on the ground, wrapping her arms around her knees.

Before she could truly let the shock abate and the hopelessness of the situation set in, Robb fumbled clumsily at the saddle, freeing himself from the bindings holding him place. With nothing to hold him up, he fell from the saddle onto the grass, and Sansa got a full view of the crossbow bolt imbedded in his shoulder. She brought an image of Arya sitting in front of Robb. If he hadn't been moved in the way, the bolt would have gone through Arya's head, killing her instantly.

"Robb!" she shouted, running to his side. He lay there panting heavily. The pain seemed to have cleared the fog from his eyes, giving him clarity.

Arya reached for the bolt, as if to remove it, but Robb stopped her. "Don't, leave it… in until we find a… a maester."

Arya's hand froze and she asked "What do we do then? You have to know something."
Robb turned his head towards the river beside them and he mumbled sleepily "Cold water, could numb…not sure."

His eyes were falling closed, and she slapped his forearm.

"Stay awake Robb, you can't sleep yet." She said as softly as she could. Arya grabbed a water skin from her bag and trickled the cold water over his shoulder, and it splattered to the ground pink. Robb shivered from the cold and Arya ripped the end from her tunic, and soaked it in river water. She tied it around the quarrel wound and said "We have to keep riding. Those Lannisters won't give up so easy."

Sansa drew a breath and asked "That was easy?"

MEANWHILE, BACK AT THE LANNISTER CAMP

Jaime Lannister strode forward, and he couldn't help but imagine what horrible things the gods had for him now. First word that his nephew son was dead, now whatever this was.

The captain of the men, a man with the golden beard of a Lannisport man said "Kingslayer."

The name still made him think back to the light leaving the mad eyes of the Mad King, but he withheld the memory and asked "What has happened captain? I thought you found just some stray travelers."

The captain looked embarrassed as he said "Well, we thought them travelers at first, a boy and two girls, but then when we chased them off, wolves three times the size of the largest hound in the kennels attacked us. One of the girls was yelling for the wolves to attack, and they listened to her. One of the men, Caleb here," he gestured to one of the dead men, his throat torn out. "Recognized one of them demon wolves as the wolf that the King in the North and one of our men shot him in the shoulder."

Jaime felt a shiver pass through him. Last he had seen the Stark green boy, it had been on his knees as his prisoner. He had looked forward to having the roles switched around this time.

"And where is the Stark boy then?" he asked. The captain looked sheepish and a touch afraid.

"He uh, escaped ser. With his sisters and the wolves."

He looked down at the golden hand, frozen fingers formed in a half grip. How had so many things gone wrong after he lost one battle? Lost one hand, lost one nephew son, and now he lost a prisoner that could end this war.

He looked the captain steadily in the eye and said "You will scrounge up every man you can find. Send out all of them on fresh horses and find the King in the North or I swear, you will wish the wolves had killed you."

The captain jumped to the task, shouting for men to mount up and riders. Jaime curled his hand, his ghost fingers clenching into a fist.

If only he still had his sword hand, so he could remove the Stark boy's head himself.

Well, for last chapter, thought more people would be excited about seeing Gendry alive. Oh well, whatever. Hope you enjoyed, check out my other story please. Review, review, review, I'm almost at a hundred. Triple digits, wow.