XXXVI

Robb was unwell and he could not see her off. His injuries had been agitated, and while they weren't life-threatening, it was of dire importance, the Maester said, for him to rest. Ella had kissed him lightly that morning but said nothing, bundling herself in a thick woolen travel cloak. She called quietly for Grey Wind to follow her, and he padded along at her heels as she left. Upon reaching her horse, and the small guard that was waiting for her, she kept her eyes averted from the wooden coffin on the wagon at the end of the procession. The sun rose over the hills behind a thick cover of fog; Ella rode away from the castle and spared no glance towards the traitors' bodies that hung in the wind.

The ensuing ride to Coldocean Cove took nearly a week, and Ella did not speak for most of it. She ate and slept and rode again, and never once looked at the coffin that held her brother's decaying body within. There was an odd sort of sorrow that had taken residence low in her chest. She had felt yearning for the lives of the loved ones that she had lost, and this was not it. This was not mourning, but rather…regret. She would not dwell on it longer than she needed.

It seemed the Riverlands were aware of her gloom, as the dark clouds and the biting wind and rain swept over them, following them until they reached the castle by the sea. Night had fallen by the time they had arrived; the sun had set just as Ella set eyes on the keep, and she commanded the party to continue on until they reached their destination. She was received by her uncle, who pulled her close against his chest, leading her indoors.

For the night, the envoy would rest, and Olin's body would be prepared by the Maester so it could be buried in the crypt in the morning. Until then, Rhys urged her to rest. He wouldn't allow her to see Alysanne, told her that she had retired for the evening long before supper, and sent Ella up to her rooms where Benjen was asleep. She had nearly collapsed with relief when she saw her baby boy, tucked safe in his cradle. She knew better than to disturb him when he was asleep, but she dropped to her knees next to his cradle and ran a gentle finger over the soft fullness of his cheek.

She slept heavily that night, but woke feeling as though she hadn't slept at all. It had been that way lately; her life weighed so heavily on her mind that even sleep could not give her solace. When she awoke, she swung her legs over the bed and sat for a moment, enjoying a moment of peace before she had to get up and face the world. Benjen whined in his bassinet. Ella didn't see it as a responsibility to attend to, but rather as something to help shield her from the world outside of her chambers. She picked up her baby, bouncing him gently in her arms as she crossed the room to a chair. She nursed him in silence, the only sound in the room being the soft suckling of her son and the muted sound of the ocean waves against the shore from behind the latched windows. Ella had all of the balcony doors shut and all of the windows drawn, leaving it dark in the room. With hardly a sign of daylight, she felt as though she and her son were blissfully alone in their little world.

She had nearly dozed off again in her chair, until Benjen finished and began to whine again. She sat up with the squirming baby, shushing him. A knock came at the door and she quietly bade her guest enter while she busied herself with the babe. Maester Travin entered, standing with his hands clasped in front of him while he waited for Ella to acknowledge him.

"His body is ready, Your Grace, when you are," he said. Ella hardly spared him a glance, standing and taking Benjen back to his bassinet.

"Send in the wetnurse, will you?" she said, back turned.

"Very well, Your Grace," the old Maester replied softly. The door clicked shut quietly once he was gone. She let out a long breath, and turned to begin slowly readying herself for the day. She dressed in silence, donning the heaviest dress she had in her wardrobe. When the wetnurse entered, she told the woman that Benjen had been nursed that morning, and said nothing else, settling herself down in front of the vanity and very slowly running a brush through the tangled tresses of her hair.

"Let me get that for you," a gentle voice said. Ella started, not realizing that Penelope had come in the room. The young maid took the brush from Ella's hands and began to brush through strands of her hair. "I wanted to see you. To make sure you were alright."

When Ella thought about it, she realized that she hadn't been alright in a very long time. "I'll endure," she replied firmly. There was still a nasty feeling in her chest that kept her from properly mourning her brother. When she went down to the crypt that morning, looking over the pale and prone body of her brother, she didn't know how she felt. She was sad, truly, but there was something in her that would not let her wish that he was alive again.

Alysanne sobbed. She buried her face in her handkerchief and wept. Rhys, face grave and sullen, said a few words over Olin's body before it was laid to rest. It was hard for Ella to look at her brother's corpse, and so halfway through her uncle's speech, she turned her head away. When Rhys was finished speaking, they lowered his body into the grave and covered it with a great stone slab. Alysanne was led away by the Maester, but Rhys and Ella lingered. The two of them stared down at the grave for several moments, before Rhys took Ella by the arm.

"Come with me, darling," he said weakly, releasing his gentle grip on her arm and limping out of the crypt. Ella followed silently. Today, when Rhys walked, he leaned heavily on his crutch, as though he had a weight upon his shoulders. He ambled much slower than usual, and Ella had to help him up the stairs. When they reached his solar, he shut the door behind them and bade Ella sit. She watched wordlessly as he moved with great effort around his desk. He fumbled for a moment, and then turned and presented her a longsword; it was the Bird, the heirloom of House Reems. It was finely tempered steel and a crane was engraved on the head of the hilt. Ella gasped and reached for it, but stopped herself.

"I can't take this," she said. "I'm a Stark now. It doesn't belong to me."

"Ella," he said, voice soft and sad. "I have no heirs. Olin left no heirs. After me, it is the end of our House. Please, take it. Let something of us remain when we are gone."

After a brief moment of hesitation, Ella reached for the longsword. It was heavy, but no heavier than she expected it to be. She held it and felt powerful. "Thank you," she said softly. She felt her brother's death burden her more then than it had before. "When my son grows to be a man, and he comes into Robb's place as King in the North, they will know him as a son of House Reems. I promise it, Uncle Rhys. This sword will be his."

"Good," Rhys said, nodding. "But until then, Ella, take it as yours. And use it to strike down the people that turned Olin against us. Use it to take from them what they took from us. Can I have your word?"

"Robb and I will see to it that they receive the King's justice," she replied. "And when it comes time for him to swing the sword, I will make sure he has this one in hand."

Rhys was quiet, then, settling himself down behind his desk. Ella stared down at the steel sword in her hands. She remembered tracing the crane as a young girl, being warned by her father not to cut herself on the sharp blade. Imagining blood on a blade brought her back quickly to the night Olin was murdered.

"I killed him," Ella said suddenly. "The man who killed Olin."

"You killed him?" Rhys gasped softly.

"I took the dagger from Robb's belt," she continued quietly, numbly. "I stabbed him – I don't know how many times. His blood was all over me."

"Oh, Ella –" he began.

"He deserved it. Robb would have been merciful. Olin should have lived. But the man…that man was so sure that Olin had planned the ambush."

"How many men were killed in the attack?" her uncle asked. She kept her gaze on the sword.

"I never asked. It's…selfish of me to say, but there was only one casualty of the attack that meant something to me."

"Was it Olin?" When Ella was silent, Rhys sat back in his chair, the old wood creaking under his weight. He looked her up and down, but she kept her gaze low. "Who was it, Ella?"

"Ser Donnel saved my life." And then she allowed herself to open up to her uncle, to release a thought that had plagued her heart and mind for weeks, and admitted, "Perhaps, if I did not love Robb, I would have loved him. He was the noblest knight I had ever known. I think that is why the gods took him."

"The gods take all good men," he nodded. "Your father and Ned Stark included. There's no worth being a good man in this world."

"I want Robb to be a good man," Ella murmured. "And my son. But I don't want the gods to take them."

"The gods tried to take King Robb, but he wouldn't go." Rhys shifted himself in his seat. "Let's you and I pray they won't try to take him again."

The night before she departed, Ella held Benjen close to her chest all night. She placed his ear over her heart and prayed to the gods that he would remember the sound of her, that he would know her as his mother when she saw him next. The temptation to stay with him was stronger than ever now, but her desire to return to Robb was stronger. In the morning, Ella leant over the sleeping babe, ghosted her lips over his auburn hair, before withdrawing. She bade her family farewell, kissing Alysanne on both cheeks and allowing Rhys to gather her into a tight hug.

Ella knew very little about their journey southward. She hoped that they would be returning to Robb, but even that was not absolute. In several days' time, the Stark and Baratheon armies would march on Casterly Rock. If they were victorious, then Ella would arrive at Casterly Rock and be reunited with her husband. And if they were not…she refused to entertain the idea. Robb would live. She and all of the North were counting on it. Winter was coming, and if Robb fell, there would be no one left to rule it.

First things first, I want to apologize for this teeny tiny chapter. I tried to make it longer but everything else was just crap, so I deleted the bad bits and this was what was left. Secondly, I want to apologize for taking so long to get this chapter out. January and February were entirely consumed by the spring musical; between that, homework, and eating/sleeping, I had no time whatsoever for...anything, really. With spring break coming up, I hope to have more chapters coming out. We're closing in on the end now, so I'm hoping before summer begins that we'll be all done.

Now I get to go to the rambly bit. Today marks the three-year anniversary of this fic. Which blows my fuckin mind, honestly. When I first started writing this, I was an itty bitty high school freshman with a new obsession. Now I'm a senior, and it's kind of incredible for me to think about how long I've been writing this. We'll hopefully be done soon. I'm not sure how many people have stuck around since day one, but to any of you who have: thank you. That you would still be here with me after three years means so much. And to those two have joined along the way: thank you. That you would be here with me as I finally, painstakingly draw this fic to a close means so much.

Lots of love to DarylDixon'sLover, WhatsGoingOn, darkwolf76, HermioneandMarcus, saderia, Captain-Spangled, and CasterGirl123 for the reviews, and love to everyone who has followed this fic and added this fic to your favorites. All of your support is the reason why I've continued writing for all this time; without you, I would have left this fic in the dust long ago. Thank you all so much!

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, short though it was. I promise the next chapter will be longer, and hopefully it will be out soon! I don't think the last five updates will be very regular, but I absolutely do not intend to leave this fic for longer than a few weeks! Let me know what you all thought, I love to know your reactions, and reviews help me write faster! Thank you all again for your continued support. It really does mean so much.

Until next time,

Rex