A/N: I'm baaaaaaaaaaaack! Hope you enjoy this one!

Hlran: Thank you, that's very true indeed. Hmm...keep reading for that one...

Jaxxx: I am not promising Gendyra I'm afraid. I may or may not bring in Gendry at some point, but that doesn't mean he'll be paired with Arya. While I like the pairing in some settings I'm not sure about it here, and sometimes I prefer to just keep them as friends. Hope that isn't too disappointing.

Right-ho folks, on we go...

:)

XXXVI

"Word from the Wall? Jon?" Robb asked almost desperately as Roslin entered the room with a letter clenched in her hand. "Not the Wall," she replied and he scowled, "there is finally news about Sansa." He snapped his eyes to hers at that, trying to read in them what was no doubt written on that parchment in her hand. Gods. He couldn't lose another sibling. The grief over Bran and Rickon had been almost too much to bear, at least he now had the knowledge that news of their deaths had been false. "Is it from the Capitol?" he demanded. "Do they want gold for her? The Rock? What do they want?!"

"Hush and calm yourself," Roslin scolded him, coming closer to the bed and laying her hand on his shoulder so he stilled. "Roslin -," he started again but she placed her hand over his mouth. "If you would give me a moment then I could tell you," she said pointedly and he nodded slightly. She moved her hand away then and perched herself on the edge of the bed. "It is from the Capitol," she said, "but not from the Lannisters. The note wasn't signed but it said that Sansa was safe, that she was smuggled away from the wedding feast in the furore surrounding Joffrey's death. The Lannisters are hunting her but so far there has been no sign, whoever took her is obviously not looking to ransom her to them."

"To us then?" Robb asked with a frown and she smiled slightly. "Who else?" she raised a brow and he let out a long, deep breath, the tension in him finally relieving somewhat. "There is no clue in the letter, none at all?" he asked after a moment, his mind working on overdrive. "As I said, it is unsigned," she said calmly and he nodded in a rather distracted manner. "I know you're worrying, but try and see that this could be a good thing," Roslin implored him, taking his hand. "She is out of the Capitol at least, and doubtless she will be brought to you. The entirety of the Seven Kingdoms knows by now that you have taken the Rock, Lord Karstark and the Greatjon have seen to that," she continued, a smile twitching at her lips.

"What if this is a hoax?" he asked, tugging the letter from her grip and unfurling it. "I doubt that," she said certainly, "the Lannisters would gain nothing from making us aware that Sansa was no longer in the Capitol. She was the one thing they had over us, why would they want us to think that they had lost her? They never told you that Arya had escaped did they?" Robb nodded again as he skimmed through the contents of the letter, calming again as he allowed Roslin's words to sink in. She was right. Of course she was right. Likely he would have known it himself if he didn't feel like his wits were deserting him in this damned room. "You're right," he voiced his belief then, somehow mustering up a smile for his wife. The darkness had been threatening him again over the last week or so. Ever since they had received word from the Wall that Jon had been injured. Gods he hoped his brother was alright. That the Gods were smiling on Jon as certainly as they had been smiling down on him recently.

"I'll have the men atop the walls be extra vigilant," Roslin smiled back at him, squeezing his hand slightly. "When she is brought here we can finally put some of that Lannister gold to good use," she continued, her smile widening. He couldn't help but snort at that, an amused chuckle leaving him at her words. "Is the Maester coming today?" she asked after a moment of playing with their entwined fingers. "This afternoon," Robb confirmed to her, doing his best to sound cheerful. "Perhaps today will be it," she said in a confident tone and he smiled slightly. "Perhaps," he agreed with her. He wouldn't get his hopes up though, not after the last two times the Maester had come. The man had been pleased with his progress but not yet happy enough with his stomach wound to remove the stitching. Robb ached for it to come out. He knew once it did that he would be able to start moving a little more, and perhaps given another week could try walking with sticks.

"Have you seen my mother about this?" Robb asked her before she could offer him any soothing words. While he appreciated her trying to be positive he didn't think he could cope with it at this moment. "She was in council when it came," Roslin replied, "she was upset at first but once it was all discussed and explained she felt more positive. I think she believes that the Kingslayer arranged it…I don't know if I could believe that from such a man but I did not contradict her. I think she needs to believe it, it helps her."

"If it helps," Robb muttered, though he was less than impressed. He wanted the Kingslayer dead. He wanted the Lannisters finished. If the Kingslayer had indeed helped smuggle Sansa from the Capitol then he would feel indebted to him, which was utterly ridiculous considering what the bastard had done to Bran. "I think it does," Roslin said pointedly and he huffed again. "I won't say anything to dissuade her from it if that's what you're getting at," he said moodily and her lips twitched up at the corners. "You are a grumpy king today," she practically cooed at him, coming to place her hands on his cheeks. "Stop it," he said, a smile threatening his own lips as she leaned in closer to him. "Something ought to be done about this," she said thoughtfully before she leant in even closer and pressed her lips to his.

He kissed her back gladly, the taste and feel of her always just the thing he needed to cloud his troubled mind for just a few moments. One of her hands slipped back and stroked through his hair as they kissed slowly and deeply for a long minute. When she pulled back he was near breathless and he could see her quickening heartbeat in the rise and fall of her chest. Gods he missed her. All of her. His hand reached out to press against her rounded stomach as she looked down on him and a smile lit up her eyes. "Do you feel anything?" she asked him, her beautiful eyes fixed on his face. "Is it moving?" he asked her in return. "Slightly," she replied, "it was stronger a moment ago."

"Perhaps it is still too early," he said, rubbing the swell of her stomach tenderly. "Likely you're right," she smiled, "but soon I think." He grinned at that, her hand coming to lay across his to still it against her. "I can't wait," he told her honestly and she smiled back at him. "Neither can I. I so want you to feel it…feel our precious baby. It is so incredible Robb," her voice was dripping with pride and excitement and that alone was enough to keep the smile on his face as he looked up into her eyes. "Thank you," he murmured, "for everything…but especially these past weeks. Without you and our baby to keep my spirits high I don't know what I would have done. I just wanted to let you know how much I appreciate everything you're doing for me. For us."

"It feels like forever since we've had a moment to ourselves," Olyvar said quietly, his hand coming to rest on her waist. "I know," she agreed, "but you know how it's been." He nodded his head, of course he knew how it had been. He had been present at every single council meeting since the King had been injured. Half his time was now spent with Roslin as she needed him to lean on right now, and that had meant neglecting the other woman in his life. "It's been hard for everyone," he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead, "but I've missed you so much." She sighed and leaned further into him, her hands coming to clench around his forearms. He pressed his forehead to hers and exhaled deeply. She was so different when it was just the two of them, not the fierce, somewhat cold persona that she projected towards everyone else.

"Will you come tonight?" he asked her hopefully, and her lips curved up into a wicked smile. "Now that all depends on you, doesn't it?" she asked him slyly, and he grinned down on her. "I will take that as a yes," he said with a wink and she laughed lightly. "By the Gods I cannot wait, it has been too long since it was just the two of us," he sighed, and she nodded her agreement. "I know, but we both have responsibilities, everything is just so complicated at the moment," she said almost regretfully, and he pressed another kiss to her forehead. "It can be simple tonight," he said and she smiled slightly, tilting her head up so she could meet his eyes. "I can't quite remember how this happened," she said and he frowned. "How what happened?" he questioned her. "How I came to depend on seeing you every day," she replied and his smile could have cracked his face. "If only it didn't have to be a secret," he said.

"It won't be forever Olyvar, let's just get this war over with first," she said and he nodded, albeit somewhat grudgingly. "Don't frown…think of tonight," she practically cooed at him, her fingers coming to whisper down his cheek. "I'd rather think of right now," he breathed, leaning in closer to her and pressing his lips against hers. She kissed him back hungrily and he pressed her back against the council table, her tongue coming to twist with his as her hands clenched in his hair. He could scarce wait until tonight, but losing themselves now like this would be a huge risk. The thought of what could happen if they were caught…

"Olyvar!" he wrenched his lips from hers and turned, seeing Roslin stood in the now open doorway of the council chambers. Before he could even half open his mouth to blurt out some kind of explanation she had stepped inside and closed the door behind her. "Lady Dacey," her brows were raised in surprise as she looked passed him to the woman he had been rather enjoying himself with mere seconds before. "Forgive me, my queen," Dacey dropped her eyes and inclined her head. "You ought not to be so reckless where anyone could walk in," Roslin raised a brow, but Olyvar could have sworn that her tone was more amused than anything else. "You are quite right, my queen…if you would excuse me, I ought to go," Dacey said, meeting Roslin's eyes. Roslin held her gaze for a long moment before she inclined her head, a thoughtful expression on her face when she moved her gaze to Olyvar.

Dacey's hand found the back of his for a moment, her fingers running across the skin for a moment. He was reassured by the gesture, and hopeful that she would still seek him out later tonight. He hoped she would, he was aching for her. She moved away then, inclining her head again to Roslin before she made her way out of the chambers. Once the door was closed Olyvar moved his eyes from it to meet the gaze of his sister that he could feel burning into him. "Are you angry?" he asked her sheepishly and she smiled slightly. "Only slightly irritated that you didn't tell me," she replied, "how long have you been…involved with Lady Dacey?"

"We got to know one another when we were preparing to invade the Rock. She saved me when that arrow hit me, I suppose it just…happened," he shrugged his shoulders. "Is it serious?" Roslin asked, taking a few more steps towards him. "I like her very much, if that's what you're asking me," he answered her honestly, and she nodded slowly. "She's a good woman, and a noble one…I do hope you won't do anything foolish," Roslin said lightly, though he heard the underlying warning. Dacey was one of the King's closest friends and part of his personal guard. Olyvar knew well enough that he would not be impressed if he found out the extent of their involvement. "I intend to make her my wife," he said, the first time that he had admitted the words out loud. He had intended it for a while, but part of him was afraid to mention the idea to Dacey. It had crossed his mind that she may just think of him as a short-term lover, and not a man she would want to spend the rest of her days with.

She could do better that him, he knew that well enough, but he had made his mind up that he would at least try and win her hand. His eyes met Roslin's again when he realised that she had made no reply, seeing the expression on her face that told him she was already forming a plan in her mind. He frowned slightly, wondering what exactly she was thinking. "What?" he finally asked when he could stand it no longer. "I think you and Lady Dacey may well be the solution to my problem," she said slowly and his frown merely deepened. "You think us being together can end the war?" he asked her sarcastically and she rolled her eyes. "No, idiot," she sighed heavily, "but I do think you might just be able to get Arya out of her betrothal to young Walder."

"And how, pray tell, would we manage that?" he asked her, wondering what scheme she was dreaming up in her head this time. "I had intended to ask father to reconsider, to allow Arya a choice of husband as she allowed Robb a choice of wife," Roslin explained, and Olyvar nodded his understanding. "What if I asked for you?" she raised one brow and he stared at her. "Me?" he said incredulously, and she smiled slightly. "Think about it, you're betrothed to Arya, but it will be years before she is of an age to wed. Before that time came you could marry Dacey in secret and break the betrothal. The agreement would be null then, Robb would be well within his rights to refuse to betroth Arya to any of the others after you have insulted him in such a way. Father would have no choice but to back down and accept it," Roslin was almost triumphant by the end and even Olyvar was grudgingly impressed by how quickly she had thought up the idea.

"There is one flaw in your, admittedly brilliant, plan," Olyvar said, and she cocked her head to one side as she contemplated him. "And what might that be?" she asked with raised brows. "Dacey would have to agree to marry me," he told her, to which she smiled widely. "You doubt your own charm brother?" she asked him wryly, and he rolled his eyes at her. "I'm sure you can persuade her," Roslin said certainly, "besides, you have years yet to wear her down."

Catelyn was in with Robb when the Maester arrived with Jeyne. She was slightly worried about where Roslin had got to, knowing that she would want to be here with Robb whether his stitches were allowed to come out or not. She had said she wouldn't be long when she had stepped out earlier, saying she had left something behind in the council chambers that she wanted Robb to cast his eye over later. She really ought to have been back by now, the council chambers were only in the next hallway. Gods, Catelyn hoped that no ill news had come, it was the last thing any of them needed, especially today of all days. She was pleased to see Jeyne looking well and happy though, she had yet to see her to congratulate her on her marriage, but she was worried about doing so in Robb's presence. She hadn't had the courage to raise the subject with him, nor with Roslin, so she had no idea how he had taken the news.

"It's good to see you Jeyne," Catelyn said, thinking that the greeting was sufficiently neutral. "And you, Lady Stark," Jeyne smiled widely and Catelyn met her eyes with a smile of her own, hoping that the younger woman would catch her silent message. "You can congratulate her you know," Robb said in an amused tone, to which Catelyn narrowed her eyes slightly at him. He merely grinned in response and a smile twitched her own lips, amused despite herself. Gods she was glad that he had not taken it badly. "Congratulations Jeyne, I am truly very pleased for you," Catelyn obliged Robb, and her own feelings on the matter. "Thank you my lady, and thank you your Grace, we received the gifts from yourself and the queen. It was a lovely gesture," Jeyne said, looking between the pair of them.

"It was Roslin's doing, thank her if she ever makes an appearance," Robb said in a slightly amused tone and Jeyne smiled slightly. "May I ask what it was?" Catelyn asked, curious despite herself, and even more intrigued that it had been Roslin's idea to send a gift. "A pair of silver goblets," Jeyne answered her, "with our initials and the sigil of house Paege engraved on it. They are so finely made, we really are both very grateful. Though, I believe Damon thanked the queen this morning when he escorted her to council."

"Shall we get started your Grace?" the Maester spoke up before Catelyn had the opportunity to speak any more with Jeyne. "Of course," Robb agreed, but she frowned slightly, looking between him and the Maester. "Do you not want to wait for Roslin?" she asked her son quietly and he shook his head slightly. "Certainly, we can wait for the queen if you would prefer?" the Maester inclined his head, but again Robb shook his. "No, go ahead, you have other men who need your attention and I would not keep you from them for any longer than necessary," Robb said.

"Very well your Grace, if I may?" the Maester gestured to his stomach and Robb nodded his head, his eyes moving to fix their gaze on the ceiling. Catelyn knew he was wary of getting his hopes up, not wanting to be disappointed again by the Maester telling him that the stitches were not yet ready to be removed. She could tell that he was holding his breath and she hesitated a moment before she moved to take his hand. He made no move to pull his away, and when the Maester removed the thin layer of bandaging he squeezed her hand almost painfully tightly. Gods. Where was Roslin? She knew damn well that Robb would be happier with her here. She could not fathom why her good-daughter would be absent, and wondering what could have kept her away only served to make her fear heighten.

"I think the wound is healed sufficiently for me to be able to remove the stitching your Grace," the Maester said, and Catelyn let out the breath that she hadn't known that she had been holding. "Thank you," Robb said, his voice laced with relief. "It may be uncomfortable, but I will be as gentle as I can," the Maester assured him, and Catelyn squeezed his hand lightly. "It cannot be any more painful than the blade was," Robb said, his tone almost jovial. "That's the spirit, your Grace," the Maester said in an amused tone. "Would you pass me the scissors Jeyne, and the tweezers," he continued, holding out his hand for them. Jeyne obliged at once before she brought one of the lamps closer, holding it steadily above the Maester as he began his work. Catelyn focused on Robb's face rather than his stomach, hoping that it was just her imagination that was hearing the sounds of raised voices and running footsteps outside the window.

Roslin had been late getting back to Robb as it was when she left the council chamber. She had intended on hurrying right back to him but she had been stopped in her tracks by a breathless guard. As irritated as she was she could not ignore the panic in his voice and his insistence that she was needed outside. Consequently she was now being led up the steps to the ramparts, Ser Damon following on a mere step behind her as they made their way up. The Greatjon and Lord Flint were already present when she emerged onto the parapet, the wind catching her hair and blowing it about her face. Impatiently she pushed it back from her eyes and approached the two lords, seeing grimaces on their faces as they stared out into the sea. "What is it?" she asked them, the Greatjon turning at her words. "Ships, my queen," he replied.

"In the sea? Who would have thought?" she said wryly, seeing a smile twitch at the older man's lips. "We think the sigil might be that of Stannis Baratheon, my queen," one of the guards told her nervously, and she raised her brows, moving forwards to stand at the Greatjon's side. She placed her hands on the thick, stone walls and squinted out to sea where there were at least ten ships approaching the Rock's harbour. The sigil did indeed look suspiciously like that of Stannis, and her eyes narrowed of their own accord, her fingernails scraping against the stone as her fists clenched of their own accord. "What do you suppose he wants?" she asked, turning her head to the lords. "Hard to know," the Greatjon sniffed, "but he's come all this way for something."

Roslin nodded her agreement, her heart clenching and her stomach in knots. This was not part of the plan. She had hoped to write to Dorne and the Vale first, get them onside before she send word to the Tyrells. Only with all three of them behind them had she intended to contact Stannis Baratheon. This was not good. Not good at all. Especially if he had brought his red witch with him. Roslin would not have her within a league of the Rock, not if the rumours about her being the end of Renly were even remotely true. Robb was vulnerable enough without the likes of her being near him. "We cannot ignore him," she said grudgingly, "but we have all the advantage here, and he will agree to our terms if he wishes to enter the Rock and treat with us."

"Very good my queen, what would you have us do?" the Greatjon asked her, and she thought hard for a long minute. No one spoke while she concocted her plan, her eyes fixed continuously on the ships that appeared to have come to halt a short distance from the harbour walls. The chains were raised, none of them could pass through unless Roslin gave the order for them to be lowered, and she would. If her demands were met. "I want word sent to Lord Karstark at Lannisport. Have him take three ships to meet Stannis' fleet and deliver our terms," Roslin finally spoke when she came to her conclusion. "And what are our terms my queen?" Lord Flint asked her.

"One ship bearing Stannis and a retinue of his men can pass through into the harbour," she said, "his other ships can dock at Lannisport. Under no circumstances is he to bring his sorceress with him. He will not be permitted to enter the Rock if she is in his party, and should anything suspicious or untoward happen that cannot be explained while he is here then he will be taken as our prisoner until such time as she is dealt with. I will not tolerate her magic nor her poisonous thoughts of ending worship of the seven and the Old Gods. She is not welcome here, and nor is her Red God. If he agrees with these terms then we will arrange chambers for him and his men and will treat with him peacefully. Whether we come to an agreement or not he will be allowed to leave here in peace and without harm. But if any harm comes to us then he will be destroyed along with what is left of his army. Do you have anything you wish to add my lords?"

"No my queen, I think your terms will more than suffice," the Greatjon said, and Lord Flint murmured his agreement. "Very good," she said, "then I would ask you, Lord Flint, to send word to Lannisport. And Lord Umber, I would like you to gather council and inform them of these new developments while I speak with the King. Have your squires see that the kitchens are informed that a feast will need to be prepared, it may well be that we will have company to entertain tonight."

A/N: Well, I did promise new developments...;)