Song: Running After My Fate by Jean-Pierre Taïeb (trust me on this one)

Fianna

The icy water she had been plunged into was a mind numbing shock through her system. It took her a few seconds to focus at all - too cold to move, or to even think.

When her lungs began to scream at her from the water she had already inhaled, her natural instincts began to kick in, before she even truly realised where she was or what had happened.

Fianna Stark began to kick violently in the water, the cold temporarily distracting her from the pain in her leg. She knew the second it crunched when she landed, that her leg had been broken. But none of her limbs would be of any use, if she were dead.

Desperately, she grappled through the lake, trying to reach the surface but feeling heavily weighed down. After a couple more seconds of trying, she realised that she was being physically held back, by her own clothing.

The warm fur coat she received at Dragonstone had done its job to keep her somewhat warm, but now it was only proving to be her downfall. Having to move quickly as her limbs began to numb with the cold, she tackled the buttons that held it in place, shrugging it off her shoulders.

With the barrier gone, she tried again to reach the surface, her lungs growing more and more painful the longer she stayed under, until she almost opened her mouth to inhale the water.

As if plunged by the gods themselves, an arm suddenly appeared above her, inserting itself through the gaping gap as if searching for something.

With a final burst of energy her body had been seemingly saving, Fianna kicked upward until she was close enough to grasp onto the hand. As if she were tied to a rope, the saviour used their conjoined grip to heave her upwards.

The second she hit the air it was as if she were being born again, opening her mouth to inhale the air in. She started to cough violently, excess water finding its way out of her throat.

Robb cried out when she reappeared, eyes widened with shock and heart racing so fast he was sure it would burst out of his chest. He reached toward his wife, gripping onto her forearms to keep her afloat and ensure she didn't slip back down.

After finally catching her breath, a shaking Fianna lunged for the ice sheet, clawing her way onto it and half-hauling herself out of the water with Robb's assistance. Now that she could breathe, and wasn't seconds from death, Fianna began to wail.

If her cheeks hadn't been so damp already, they would surely have been by now. Sobs fell from her lips, ones of fright and horror, but mainly of pure agony.

Robb was at a loss. He had seen her cry many times, after all - they had been through almost everything together, but this was different. Normally, she would cry silently, tears flowing with quiet whimpers falling from her lips. Now, the Northern native was positively sobbing, her cries surely loud enough for any nearby wights to hear.

He couldn't bring himself to reassure her that they would find their way out of this, or pretend that their family was coming back to save them. For the first time in his whole life, Robb had taken a complete and utter blank, which terrified him beyond belief.

Noticing how violent her shaking was, and her lack of warm clothing, he clutched onto her and dragged her towards his body. Robb carefully cradled her head against his chest as she continued to cry, making sure they were pressed together as tightly as possible.

He could hear the grunts of the wights nearby, and knew that they were coming closer with every passing second. But perhaps this was how it would end. Maybe their journey stopped here.

"Can you fight?" He whispered into her soaked hair, which only spurred her crying to worsen.

"M-my l-leg," her teeth chattered, and Robb finally realised that she wasn't just crying because she thought they were going to die. Fianna was clutching her upper thigh, staring at her now-obviously disfigured left leg.

"Fuck," he swore, eyes wide as he leaned over her to inspect the damage. He had no training with medicine, but he didn't need to be a maester to know her leg was broken. And without anyone here to set it back, it would impact her ability to walk.

Not that they were going to walk out of here, none the less.

"It's okay, it's okay," he murmured, sobs of his own building in his chest. Robb settled his forehead against the side of her head, so she wouldn't be able to see his tears. "I love you, Fianna."

"Y-you should run," she forced out, her gaze fixating on a group of wights that were heading in their direction. "Leave me here, and g-go home to our ch-children."

"I'm not leaving you here," he responded gruffly, appalled at the suggestion.

"D-do it for them! Please, R-Robb!" Sighing exasperatedly at her insinuations, he cupped her cheek and pressed a delicate kiss to her forehead.

"I can't live without you," he revealed, her eyes snapping to his as she realised he wasn't going to leave her. Not now, not ever.

Shrugging his fur off of his shoulders, immediately clamping his mouth closed at the wave of cold that froze his body instantly, he gently wrapped it around her and began to stand. If this was to be their last moments, he wanted it to be as easy as possible for her.

Bending down to pick up the sword he discarded when he tried to save Fianna, he clenched it hard enough for his knuckles to whiten, and raised it high into the air.

Through her shaking, Fianna couldn't take her eyes off of him for one second, not even to look for the incoming wights. He was the most magnificent man she had ever met, she recognised, and if he was to be the last thing she'd ever see - so be it.

"I love you," she managed to whisper, but it's volume got lost in the harsh winds. Seconds away from the wights reaching them, he chanced a glance back down to Fianna, his lips lifting into the tiniest of smiles. It was hard to say who felt more guilty - Fianna for falling through the ice, which prompted Robb to stay behind for her. Or Robb, for leaving to go North at all.

Robb swung his dragonglass blade through the air as the first wight reached them, smashing its bones into smithereens. But before he could even attempt to continue slicing through, although it was a definite lost cause, a fiery light in the distance caught his eye.

The light was accompanied by the shadow of a horse-bound figure, galloping its way through the horde and whacking nearby enemies along the way. Determined to not let it distract him, Robb continued to fight off the wights, until the figure reached them and finished off the remainder in the near vicinity.

It was only when he tugged down his scarf covering his mouth that Robb recognised who it was.

"Uncle Benjen?" He asked, breathless from the shock of the day. He didn't reply immediately, but he didn't have to - it was like looking at his own father, the two were so similar.

Robb didn't have time to question him or himself, not having seen his uncle for nearly eight years and the man having been presumed dead for seven of them.

Benjen bent down quickly and hauled Fianna to her feet, causing a shout of pain to erupt from her mouth as her her foot touched the ground. Her soaked hair was now freezing until crunchy with the ice, and she looked more blue than normal.

Robb rushed toward them, wrapping her free arm over his shoulders. Together, they lifted her forwards until they reached the horse he had rode in on, making sure her feet didn't touch the ground.

Upon nearing the saddle, the duo lifted her off of the ground to straddle her over the horse, but the movement had her whimpering in agony again. In the end, she was forced to sit sideways on the saddle, like a lady wearing a dress would.

"Take her back," Benjen ordered Robb, gesturing with his head for the former king to get on the horse as well.

"What do you mean?" He demanded, pausing with one foot in the stirrup. "Aren't you coming?"

"No room on the horse," Benjen explained in a hurried voice, encouraging him to continue until he was properly seated on the saddle, his arms on either side of Fianna's body to reach the reins.

"Thank you, uncle," Robb told him, but Benjen wouldn't hear it. As much as he thought he could have stayed behind too, sent Fianna off on the horse and fought his way back with Benjen at his side - he couldn't. Robb had played the hero enough today, and Fianna would never make it back on her own.

So as his uncle slapped the horses' behind, he threw one sympathetic glance over his shoulder towards him, before turning back to start the journey to Eastwatch. The image of his uncle being overrun by walkers was one of the most horrifying things he had ever seen, even after all his experiences.

Fianna nuzzled her head against his chest, her body shaking not only from the cold but from her attempts to conceal her sobs.

"What is it?" He asked worriedly. "Is it your leg?"

"What if I can never walk again?" She whispered, looking distraught at the possibility.

"It's only one leg, Fianna," he tried to reason. "You'll be able to walk, trust me."

"But not run," she denied,"or at the least, walk normally..."

Robb couldn't reply to that, for he himself knew there was a good chance of that becoming reality. But limp or not, he would love her endlessly. The fact she had come so close to death yet again, that they both had, left Robb thinking about a lot more than just his journey.

One thing was for sure, the image of his uncle dying to save their lives was one that would be as permanent of a fixture in his life as Fianna's leg.


Daenerys

"My queen," Jorah spoke softly, not wanting to further upset her. "We'll have to leave soon."

"Not yet," Daenerys answered swiftly, her eyes never straying from the field of snow outstretched before her.

She had been stood at the looking point from the top of the wall for hours now, refusing to budge from her spot. Every single minute that passed she told herself, in the next minute. In the next minute, she'll appear.

Daenerys hadn't gone deaf in her trance, she could hear Jon and Jorah discussing close behind her. She didn't fail to miss the way Jon defended her actions to Jorah, for he himself was also hoping that Robb and Fianna would appear. He understood her, and that eased some of the pain.

Jon was a rather broody man, she had decided this early on, but he had never quite looked so downtrodden since they had returned to Eastwatch. Guilt and loss weighed heavily on him, perhaps more than it did on Daenerys. She reminded herself that however much pain she felt, it was so much more intensified for Jon. He had known Robb since they were little, brothers in the truest of forms even if they only shared half of each others blood.

Daenerys selfishly held onto her feeling of loss nonetheless, she tried to tell herself that Jon had other siblings he could mourn alongside. Daenerys had no one. Not only had she lost her niece, she had also lost one of her children.

It was somehow worse than the day she lost Drogo and Rhaego, for she somehow knew this wouldn't be the end of the deaths to come.

Jon had joined her side eventually, shivering so much more than she did at the top of the wall - perhaps her veins were filled with fire too. It wasn't long before he too had come to accept the events- they were gone. And freezing to death wasn't going to bring them back.

"Dany," he murmured softly, taking her elbow in his hand. She cringed visibly at the nickname, and his tone. "We have to go, you know there's no chance..."

"Just-" she cut herself off, nostrils flaring as her temper began to rise. "Just wait a little longer."

"We have the wight with us," he continued, "we need to go to King's Landing promptly. I know how you're feeling, believe me, but we'll mourn the dead when the enemy is stopped."

Daenerys felt a sob rising in her throat, and she desperately swallowed it back down. It had been quite a while since she had cried.

"Okay," she agreed finally, her whisper barely heard over the harsh winds.

But just as she had agreed, by divine intervention no doubt, a dark mass could be seen entering the clearing, moving at a slow pace.

"Wait!" She gasped, grabbing Jon's arm and forcing him forward, pointing with her free hand.

Jon's eyes and mouth widened immediately, and with that, he shot off into a run, heading straight for the ladder that would start to lead him down to the bottom.

Daenerys stood still, fearful that if she looked away it would disappear as a figment of her imagination. But it only came closer and closer, until her eyes could make out what looked to be two figures on horseback.

With that sight, she finally turned to follow after Jon, to greet them herself.


Jon

The gates couldn't have opened fast enough for Jon, who slipped underneath the small opening the second it unveiled - too impatient to wait for it to fully rise.

He ran as hard as he could through the thick snow, which was much harder than one would think after a harsh snow storm. He could immediately make out the features of his brother's face, the curl of his hair hidden beneath a hood and a bundled person huddled against his chest.

He said a silent prayer that Fianna wasn't dead, for he can't imagine how much further damage his brother would suffer if he had to carry the love of his life's body back to safety.

"Robb!" He exclaimed loudly, desperate to be heard through the snow. His heart hammered in his chest, as if he were the one who had escaped death. It was like seeing him for the first time after the Red Wedding all over again.

"Jon," Robb shouted back tiredly, his voice hoarse and coming out as more of a croak. No doubt he was coming down with something. His eyes were fluttering, body begging himself to allow him to fall asleep.

Jon reached the horse after shouting out behind him for help, not waiting to see Davos sprinting after him.

"Are you alright?" Jon asked breathlessly when he reached the horse, hands against the side of the horse. Robb looked exhausted, his face more blue than pale and snow coating his lashes and beard.

"T-take her, Jon," he replied tiredly, tightening his grip around the shivering woman in his arm. The shaking told Jon that perhaps she wasn't dead yet after all.

Jon reached up and placed both hands on her waist, exerting himself as he lifted her into his arms, as one would carry a small babe. He immediately began to rush back to the tunnel, until a harsh thud behind him told him that Robb had fallen off his horse.

"Go!" Davos demanded, himself and Gendry wrapping their hands under the former kings arms. "'Av got him!"

Jon pushed his worry aside in order to sprint back towards the castle, desperate to get towards the heat and to meet someone with healing knowledge. For Fianna was in far worse shape than Robb.

He had reached the former Maester's chambers, where he himself was currently residing it, as he knew a warm fire was blazing and it had a table for an ailing person to lay.

Davos and Gendry were close behind, settling Robb down into a chair beside the fire and wrapping him in warm blankets. The man was lethargic, slipping back and forth between the conscious and unconscious world. But Jon had seen it before with other rangers, he needed to be warmed up both inside and out and given time to rest a night. Then he would be right and ready.

However, Fianna he knew to be in worse condition.

He saw the girl fall through the ice, it was a miracle she had survived until now much less was here in front of him. Doubtless - hypothermia was settling in, and he would have to act fast to stop it.

"Forgive me, brother," he muttered, before reaching for his dagger to cut her still-damp clothes off, politely ignoring the parts of her body that he shouldn't see.

"Is she alright?" A shaky voice called out from the doorframe, Daenerys slowly stepping toward the table but hesitantly. She wasn't sure if Fianna and Robb were fully coherent, and if they'd want to see her.

"I don't know," Jon answered truthfully. Now that Davos had settled Robb in, and had instructed Gendry to make him a hot cup of Nettle Tea to warm him up and fetch more blankets for Fianna, he was able to assist Jon.

He turned his attention to her riding trousers, slicing through them, but it wasn't long before he recoiled in surprise.

"By the gods!" He choked, Jon rolled his eyes - assuming he had simply seen her lady parts, but stopped to look as well when he saw that Davos gaze was further down.

Jon looked and his eyebrows furrowed at the sight - her knee was distorted at an odd angle, pushed to the side and sticking out. No doubt it was broken, as well as her ankle by the looks of it, but neither Jon nor Davos knew how to reset breaks in such places.

"What is it?" Daenerys demanded, stepping up to the table and gasping herself. Her hand fell to her stomach, tears reaching her eyes as she realised the full extent of their decision to go North. The guilt was indescribable, between Jon and herself.

Gendry soon returned, and Fianna's naked body was redressed in clothing meant for a smaller man. Blankets bundled around her and the table dragged closer to the fire. The bastard son headed towards Robb, who was incoherently mumbling to himself, with a cup of tea in hand. Carefully, after blowing on it, he brought the cup to his lips and began to let its contents fall into his mouth and down his throat.

Seconds afterward, a choking sound was heard, and several glares were thrown in Gendry's direction. It had seemed to do the trick, although, as Robb shot up in his seat, wiping his mouth viciously.

"What the bloody hell is that?" He demanded in disgust, eyes glancing around the room in confusion before they landed on the face of his wife, entirely unconscious.

All that could be seen was her head, as the rest of her body too tightly bundled. Robb looked absolutely heartbroken by the sight, which ironically broke the hearts of every person in the room.

Slowly he rose, but then he rushed toward the table, his hands cupping her cold cheeks and his lips pressing kisses against her forehead.

"I think she'll be alright," Jon decided to speak up, fearful of Robb's mood. "She'll need a few days to rest."

"Did you see her leg?" His hoarse voice croaked in return. Jon nodded sadly. "Do you think she'll ever walk again?"

Jon didn't answer.

"I've seen many a man break his leg and walk again, lad," Davos offered encouragingly, "they walked with a limp in their step, but they walked."

Robb nodded, looking as if he had a weight lifted off of his shoulders. He would love his wife if she were crippled or not, but he knew first hand how much pain Bran was in to struggle with the simple things in life. But of course, Bran had broken his back - not a single leg.

Robb turned and dragged his chair towards the table, bundling up again with his free hand as his other was underneath Fianna's blankets, curled around her hand.

Daenerys let out a soft sigh, trying to maintain composure as she ventured towards Robb, ready to offer her sympathies and apologies. But ultimately, she was stopped by Jon's hand on her shoulder. She looked at him in confusion, but he simply tilted his head and gestured towards the door.

Together, they walked until they were outside and completely alone.

"What is it?" Daenerys initiated, eyebrows furrowed.

"Something tells me Robb doesn't want to talk right now," Jon sighed, rubbing his cold hands together with a grim expression. "I'd guess he blames us for their situation."

"It was us," Daenerys replied, her tone flat but her eyes betraying her demeanour, for they were filled with sadness and worry. "He told us not to venture North, both of them did."

"What's done is done now," Jon tried to comfort her, "we should feel thankful we didn't lose any more than we did."

"There's more..." Daenerys admitted, hanging her head in shame. "When we readied to leave Dragonstone... Fianna wanted to ride on Drogon with myself. She practically begged me, told me she wasn't ready to ride Viserion into battle, but I wouldn't listen."

"Why?" Jon asked, eyes scanning her face. He was unsure of what to think about this.

"I thought that it would come naturally to her, with her Targaryen blood," she revealed in a low voice.

"I think that was a mistake," he answered, continuing when she looked back at him, "you've been acting as if she was fully Targaryen this entire time. But Fianna wasn't telling you she's a Bua out of stubbornness."

"It's typical," she scoffed, the corners of her lips turned down. "I've barely begun my reign and already it's starting to become my downfall."

"I disagree," he refuted, causing her head to snap to look at him in surprise. "You took a risk to save us, despite the fact you barely believe in white walkers to begin with. You listened to us, and suffered as a result. I think you'll make a great Queen. And that the Seven Kingdoms will survive under your reign."

Daenerys' lips parted in shock at his words, particularly, she honed in on his use of the words Seven Kingdoms, instead of five. Was he suggesting what she had hoped he would agree to for months now?

But before she could even begin to ask, the sound of the door opening behind them interrupted the conversation.

Jon blanched at the sight of Robb at the door, his sharp blue eyes flicking back and forth between the two suspiciously. He internally begged that Robb hadn't heard his conversation, but if he had, he wasn't going to comment on it just yet.

"Can you see if there are any more blankets?" He asked his brother, although his eyes still flickered to Daenerys, who's nervous demeanour didn't help.

Without waiting for an answer, Robb shut the door swiftly.


Fianna

When first she awakened, the only thing she was able to make sense of was that she was very warm. The weight of several blankets were heavy on top of her, and she scrambled her hands up from her sides to shove them off.

The motion caught the attention of her husband, who had been busy writing a scroll on the desk in the room. Jon had officially handed the room to Robb and Fianna, although they had only been staying in it since the evening before.

"You're awake," he murmured happily, a smile brightening up his features as he dropped his quill and made a move towards the bed, settling to sit down beside her body.

"Hi," she replied with a small smile, voice hoarse from being asleep. It took her a second before the events of the day before transpired, and Robb could tell immediately by her suddenly shocked expression when the memories hit.

"You're okay," he soothed, reaching his hand over and cupping her warm cheek. "We're safe now."

She nodded quietly, deciding to save her voice whenever possible and leaned into his palm.

"How am I looking?" She asked tiredly, well aware she most likely looked terrible if her aching body had anything to say about it.

"As beautiful as always," he smirked, leaning down and pressing a delicate kiss to her forehead. Fianna rolled her eyes playfully, but revelled in his attention none the less.

"And what about...?" She nodded with her head towards her legs, which were covered by the thick furs surrounding her.

"You've broken your ankle, for sure, and they think you may have broken your knee," he explained, wincing before continuing. "One of the wildlings was able to set your knee back, but your ankle..."

"My ankle is fucked," she answered for him, her eyes lowering from his face to raise to the ceiling. Fianna blinked rapidly to stop tears forming, but Robb knew her better than that. Gently, he reached his hands out and cupped her own in his- she immediately responded by squeezing his fingers.

"I'm a warrior, Robb," she whispered, afraid if she talked too loud she'd break and cry. "It's what I'm best at. How am I going to fight if I'm falling behind everyone else?"

"If Jaime Lannister can swing a long sword with one hand," Robb pointed out, lowering himself down so he was close to her, "then a woman who's twice the warrior he is can still fight."

"You're just saying that to make me feel better," she couldn't help but chuckle, his words already easing some of the loss.

"Or maybe I'm just really honest and I'm telling the truth," he smirked, pecking the tip of her nose. "You don't need to be able to run to swing a sword, Fianna. You're not a horse."

"Really? I've been mounted by you enough times, I'm starting to get confused-" she joked, cut off by Robb's belting laughter and light shoulder shove. When the amusement died down, a soft look remained in Robb's eyes as he regarded upon his wife.

"You know I'll love you, and so will our children," he informed her, causing her cheeks to flame in a flattered blush.

"I have something to tell you," he began, causing her brows to furrow in concern. "I wouldn't have done this so soon after you've awakened, but they're leaving today, and before I do anything drastic - you deserve to know."

"What is it?" She demanded, moving to sit up in the bed and lean against the headboard.

When Daenerys entered Fianna's room hours later, she did so apprehensively. The Northern lady had specifically requested to see her, and while her aunt was all the more happy to hear she was well - she was not looking forward to having to look her in the eye.

The guilt didn't cease any, and would likely increase tenfold if Fianna were to agree that it was her fault everything happened.

She knocked on the door first, and after hearing a tentative 'come in', entered. Fianna was sitting up fully, her legs hanging over the side of the bed as she ran a brush through her long, dark locks.

Daenerys' eyes immediately caught onto her leg, which was wrapped up tightly with fabrics and a tied cord to prevent her knee from slipping back out of place. They also wrapped her ankle, in the hopes it would help it somehow. So far, this proved unsuccessful.

The dragon queen loitered by the door, her hands clasped in front of her as she waited for Fianna to speak. But all she did was stare - her burning eyes fixed on Daenerys' nervous demeanour. She fidgeted under her gaze.

"You asked to see me?" She questioned, hating how weak she suddenly sounded. After all, she was a queen, and here she was practically cowering in the presence of a mere lady.

"I did," Fianna set her brush down on the table aside the bed, which also happened to hold a tray of uneaten dinner delivered to her. She patted the space beside her on the bed, gesturing Daenerys to sit next to her, which she did.

"Tell me," she finally continued after a moment of prolonged silence, "if you had come here and Westeros wasn't under threat, would you have tried to conquer the North?"

Daenerys visibly recoiled at the seemingly random question, but Fianna had now turned her head to look directly at her, waiting for an answer.

"Yes, of course," she answered without further hesitation. "The seven kingdoms are my birthright."

"No they're not," Fianna couldn't help but argue. "If anything, Gendry is the rightful heir, even if he is a bastard. The Targaryens were usurped by the Baratheons."

"By traitors," she insisted, bristling at her honesty.

"Oh, I suppose you'd rather it if Westeros just continued to suffer under Aerys' cruelty because he was the rightful heir?"

"My father was a cruel man, I have asked you before not to punish me for his mistakes-"

"Perhaps I should punish you for your own," Fianna cut her off. "Or ones that you intend to make."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Her jaw clenched. The awkward air had suddenly become extremely tense.

"You came here with Fire and Blood, to conquer our land after we had liberated it," Fianna sighed, although she appeared calm. Eerily calm. "If we were not of the same blood, I'd imagine you'd have burned my family and I for refusing to bend to your will."

Daenerys stayed silent, the image of the Tarly family being completely wiped out under her command replaying in her head.

"I came to you because you asked me to," Fianna began, turning to angle her body towards her. "Because I knew who you were. Well I'm asking you now, to look me in the eye and swear that when this war is over you will not touch the North or the Riverlands."

Daenerys didn't move an inch except to flick her gaze to meet Fianna's. This time, she didn't cower under its underlying ferocity, nor was she nervous. Fianna was asking Daenerys to give up part of her dream, part of her birthright.

It was an answer she barely had to consider.

"I can't do that," she simply said.

Fianna nodded, her lips pursed, as if she already knew the answer before hearing it. She raised her eyebrows high, and lifted her lips in the smallest of smiles.

"But Fianna, I'd never kill you. Or your family."

"You truly think the North would ever follow a Targaryen again?" Fianna chuckled incredulously.

Daenerys didn't answer, her face saying it all, and Fianna picked up on her thought process immediately.

She didn't intend to give them the choice.

"Then I just want you to know," Fianna leaned in, her voice dropping low but her words dripping with threat. "When this is over, if you so much as lift a foot with the intention of placing it on Northern ground - I'll kill you, Daenerys Targaryens."

It had been a while since mere words had left a chill in her spine, but the firmness in her voice and the coldness in her eyes had told Daenerys that Fianna Stark meant what she said. And just like that, any semblance of a familial bond they had been beginning to develop was shattered.

"You do realise I could have you killed," she retorted, swallowing down her fury. "You have just threatened a Queen."

With a movement so sharp she almost would have missed it if the object Fianna picked up wasn't angled at her face, she had reached for the dinner knife on her table and directed it inches from the blondes neck. Daenerys let out a horrified gasp, her entire body freezing instantly. She was determined not to appear weak or frightened, but it was near impossible.

"Your dragons and armies can't protect you from everything," Fianna warned, "and that's how easy it would have been to kill you." With those final words, she tossed the knife back onto her plate, allowing Daenerys to swiftly stand up and make a beeline for the door.

"Dany?" Fianna called out as her hand poised over the door handle, causing her to pause in waiting. "I never want to have to see you again."

Daenerys didn't look over her shoulder again, and Fianna was glad for it.

Their detachment was painful, for there was no denying a bond had been formed in the weeks she stayed at Dragonstone. But however much she loved her Aunt, she loved her children and her kingdom so much more. Fianna did not pour her blood, sweat and tears into a free North for Daenerys to force everyone back down to their knees.

As Robb said after he was crowned all those years ago - from this day and until the end of days, the North is a free and independent kingdom.


Robb

He had cleverly waited until Daenerys had gone to Fianna's chambers at her request, before he decided to seek his half-brother out.

Himself and Fianna had spent the last few hours discussing their options - particularly focusing in on how the King and Queen hadn't listened to their sound advice when offered. And how their strategies had led to the death of four, almost five, people.

Robb hadn't trusted Daenerys since the beginning - the very name Targaryen was enough to preinstall a certain degree of paranoia. The three, now two, dragons she carried in tow only furthered it. But what really reinforced his idea that the North would not be safe in her hands was the trip above the wall.

Originally, Robb hadn't any sense of doubt in handing over the crown to Jon. He always considered him to be of sound mind, to be level headed and generally smart. But he didn't miss the words spoken outside of his chambers between Jon and Daenerys, and guessed if he hadn't interrupted his brother, he would have handed over their kingdom to Daenerys.

Too much blood had been shed to ever allow another ruler to take over the North. Even if Gendry had rose up and decided to lay claim to the Seven Kingdoms, Robb wouldn't allow it. Too much of his family had been lost to non-Northern rulers, his parents, his grandfather and his uncle to name a few.

And if Jon was willing to put that aside for a foreign queen, one who would try to enforce the North's loyalty, then he regretted ever stepping down as King at all.

"Jon," Robb greeted, finding him alone in an old dining hall. His head snapped up immediately, eyes widening in surprise at the sight of his brother with minor nervousness.

"Robb," he returned, refocusing his gaze on the scrolls in his hands. Unsure of how to broach the subject, and knowing he'd have to act fast while Fianna told Daenerys exactly what she thought, he sat down across from him.

"You know I heard you," Robb stated, not asking a question he knew the answer to. Jon swallowed, looking rather tense all of a sudden.

"Yes."

"Might I ask," Robb started, making a gesture with his hand as he kept his voice level, "what in the seven hells you were thinking?"

"She rode North, without any belief in the White Walkers to save us, Robb," Jon tossed the scroll to the side, leaning in over the table. "How can you not think she has the heart to be our Queen?"

"The heart?" Robb hissed. "If you hadn't have offered the North up on a dinner tray to her she would have taken it anyway. Your words don't matter. I trusted you to be King because I thought you understood the Northerners."

"There won't be any Northerners if we don't stop them! And we can't stop them without her!" Jon began to raise his voice.

"She is the one who made this about politics, Jon," Robb shot up from his seat, slamming his palms hard enough on the wooden table to create an echoing smack sound. "If she cared enough about her 'people' to save their lives, she wouldn't have needed your fealty in the first place. What has she been saying for weeks now about helping stop them? That she wouldn't unless you bent the knee!"

"I am looking out for my people, Robb," Jon dropped his volume, staring with a fierce look upon him.

"Your people will never support this."

"That's the thing," Jon shook his head, "they're my people. You are my brother, but you are not King. What I say is what goes."

"We'll see about that," was all Robb replied, an undertone to his voice that made Jon slightly anxious. His eyes followed him as he turned to march out of dining hall, wondering what Robb had in mind.


Jon and Daenerys departed for King's Landing that evening, but it was another few days before Fianna felt well enough to travel. They were headed in the complete opposite direction - they were going home.

Without choice, Fianna had to travel by carriage - much to her dismay. Her leg would be in a bad condition for weeks, and she'd have to make sure not to push it too far in that time, in case she caused further damage.

They were heading towards Baelfort, a journey that would take upwards of a week, to collect their children and then relocate to Winterfell. Fianna was excited at the prospect of seeing her children again, if not a little frightened. She feared that they wouldn't remember her - highly unlikely, she knew. But a fear nonetheless.

The week and a half long journey to Baelfort consisted purely of Robb and Fianna deliberating. They went over every plan, every strategy - but every answer brought them back to one. One that would drive a permanent wedge between Robb and his brother, and solidify the silent war brewing between Fianna and Daenerys. But one that was, ultimately, the most preferable for themselves and for the North.

The inhabitants of Baelfort must have seen that they were coming, for they were gathered in the courtyard waiting their impending arrival.

As she looked out the small window, Fianna didn't fail to notice the numerous tents littered around, her brows furrowing in confusion at the sight. But she was quickly distracted when she saw the sight of her true family waiting - Bonifer, Tiernan, Eddie and Aifric.

Embarrassingly, Robb had to lift her down from the carriage, and supply her with wooden makeshift crutches that he carved in Eastwatch.

The twins squeaked in excitement at the image of the parents, immediately barrelling forward towards them. Robb crouched down to catch Aifric up in his arms, his eyes twinkling with adoration, while Fianna had to toss down one of the crutches and lean on the other one to wrap her arm around Eddie's head. She hated that she was unable to bend down much to greet him.

Robb and Fianna marvelled over how much the two had grown in the space of three month, if not simultaneously sharing guilt for leaving at all. Aifric's red-toned hair almost reached the middle of her back, while Eddie's had darkened significantly as he grew - matching the shade of his mother's now instead.

Frustrated with her inability to hold them, Fianna dropped down to her uninjured knee and tossed herself down on the ground so they could embrace properly. She couldn't believe she had ever mustered the strength to leave in the first place.

Being a mother was an indescribable feeling, the smallest things like the smell of their hair or the way they looked at her made her heart swell with love each and every time.

She wasn't sure she'd ever love anyone as much as Robb, and especially not after she had first lost him - until the twins came along.

Tiernan and Bonifer gave them a moment together, sharing a glance in that time at the sight of Fianna's wrapped up leg and her inability to walk. When finally she broke apart from the embrace that was shared between Robb, Fianna and their children, she looked up to beam at them.

Robb helped her stand once more, settling the wooden sticks beneath her armpits so she could make her way towards them too.

Tiernan wrapped her up in his arms, squeezing her tightly, while Bonifer - the less emotional one of the two - settled for stroking the side of her hair.

"You silly girl," he remarked, an undeniable sadness in his voice as he looked at her twisted foot. "What happened?"

"I have so much to explain, grandfather," she sighed, Tiernan wrapping his arm around her shoulders for support as her crutches fell from his embrace.

Robb loitered in the background, still crouched down to embrace his children but the bounding of paws against the ground disrupted that. He was too slow to turn his head, as Grey Wind came sprinting over and knocked him flat on his back.

"Grey Wind," he huffed, unable to find it within himself to be angry at the dire wolf. The wolf had certainly missed him, nuzzling his muzzle against his face and sniffing him to gather the scent that he held. Undeniably, Robb missed him too.

"Grey!" Eddie giggled childishly, reaching out and patting his fur. It appeared their direwolf had also acquired a nickname for himself.

"Well we want to hear it," Tiernan answered Fianna, allowing her to lean on him as she hobbled towards the castle, the twins and Robb following closely behind.

"Why are there so many tents?" She questioned, casting a glance around.

"A couple of my men at the Twins wanted to come back home when I did, we're having a bit of a problem finding room for them all."

Aifric was sat on her mother's untouched knee, with Fianna brushing her hands through her curls as she relayed the story to her cousin and grandfather. Eddie was sat on Robb's, who looked extremely tense as the story continued. The more he thought about Daenerys and Jon, the angrier he got. And he wasn't the only one.

"This is absolute bollocks!" Tiernan bellowed, standing up abruptly and casting an apologetic gaze towards Aifric after she covered her ears. "Why didn't you tell me you were part Targaryen?"

"It was practically instilled in this family to hate them, I was too ashamed to admit it, Tiernan," Fianna calmly explained. Robb shuffled Eddie off of his lap, prepared to step in if Tiernan were to get angry with her.

"I warned you, girl," Bonifer sighed, running his hand over his balding head. "You play with fire, and you'll get burned."

"I know, grandfather," Fianna admitted, looking down at the table in shame.

"If there's one thing we can take from this trip," Robb began standing up so he could place his hands on the table, "it's that we made a grave mistake in abdicating. My brother, the King in the North, intends to bend the knee to Daenerys. And it's only a matter of time before he does."

"Are you serious?" Tiernan hissed, eyes wide with fury. "Has he learned nothing from our history? The North will never follow a Targaryen!"

"And we don't intend to force them to," Robb announced, sharing eye contact with Fianna. After receiving the smallest of nods, he took her encouragement and used it to proclaim his next words. "I intend, we intend, to ride to Winterfell and ask the Northerners to reclaim me as their King."

Tiernan and Bonifer's eyes widened dramatically, although the former's were full of shock - Bonifer actually appeared excited.

"Well," he chuckled darkly, shaking his head. "It's about damn time."

"Then I'll join you," Tiernan proclaimed, "you'll have support from the Lord of Baelfort."

"Are you certain you just don't want to go to see a certain redhead?" Fianna teased, causing his lips to quirk in amusement, although he didn't deny it.


It took another week and a half for them to quickly pack belongings and to reach Winterfell. Fianna knew that the meeting with Cersei in King's Landing was also happening on the same day, where Daenerys would ask for her help in defeating the Northern threat.

She didn't want to know how it went down, for she could already guess. Cersei would never embarrass herself by being seen as an ally to the Targaryen who meant to conquer her.

When finally they reached the stronghold, they were welcomed warmly by Arya, Sansa, Rickon and Bran.

It had been years since Robb had seen his crippled brother, and it shocked him into silence the first time he saw him. He looked so much like an adult now, instead of a boy.

When his shock broke, he rushed forward to Bran, who was seated in a wooden wheeled chair, embracing him tightly and thanking the gods to be blessed with a family that had survived everything they had.

"Look at you, Bran," Robb mumbled, leaning back and ruffling his hair, a teary smile developing. "You're a man now."

"He says he's not a man, he's a Three Eyed Raven," Rickon interrupted, a teasing tone in his voice as he rolled his eyes. Robb turned to look at Bran in confusion.

"It's true," Bran said, his voice awfully monotone and rather unexcited. Robb twitched his eyebrows in mild surprise at his indifference.

"What does that mean?"

"Don't bother," Sansa interjected, an exasperated tone in her voice. "We've tried to ask him and he only gets more cryptic by the day."

Fianna, deciding to come forth and offer her own greeting, hobbled forward on her wooden crutches and settled for placing a hand on top of his. He looked down at it with a simple expression.

"Hi, Bran," she greeted warmly, offering a smile. "Do you remember me?"

"Hello, Fianna," he responded, meeting her gaze. His next words were spoke low enough for only her to hear. "I saw what you did for our mother, it was very kind of you."

Fianna inhaled sharply, her smile dimming as Bran looked at her knowingly. How could he have seen what she did with Catelyn's body? Was he waiting in the woods while Fianna gave her a worthy send off?

She stepped back, obviously weirded out, but trying to stay calm in front of Robb.

"What happened to your leg?" Arya demanded cheekily, marching up until they were beside each other and looking down at it worriedly. Although she was merely asking the question everyone else was too scared to.

"Arya!" Sansa scolded.

"She had quite a fall," Bran answered for her, and Fianna had to silently beg that he wouldn't reveal what exactly she fell from. "But don't worry Fianna, you'll walk again. You'll never sprint, but you'll walk."

"Okay," she whispered, eyes widened. His words were eerie and his entire demeanour gave her chills. "You simply must stop that, Bran. I'm getting rather weirded out."

"And there's my darling niece and nephew," Sansa practically cooed, crouching down to meet the two twins who were cowering fearfully behind their father's legs. They had met everyone before, but were too young to truly remember them completely, or at least enough to be comfortable with them.

Aifric, being the more forward of the twins, stepped towards Sansa confidently, while Eddie still cowered behind Robb.

Swooping the little one up in her arms and resting her on her hip, Aifric squealed with happiness in Sansa's arms. Robb smiled at the scene, knowing that one day, Sansa would be a good mother to children of her own. It even looked perfect now, as Aifric strongly favoured her Tully/Stark genetics and looked a lot like Sansa.

"Be still my heart," a thick-accented voice sounded from behind them, all turning to reveal a grinning Tiernan dismounting his horse. "Now I have two beautiful redheads in my life."

Sansa's cheeks flushed at the sight of him, something Fianna and Arya smirked at and shared a glance over. The lady hadn't been expecting to see the Bua Lord so soon again, and found herself excited. Although she'd never admit that to him, of course.

"Lord Tiernan," she greeted formally, settling Aifric down onto the ground and barely noticing as the child ran off to poke her brother.

"Mother," Eddie's quiet voice broke Fianna away from watching the scene unfold. He was tugging on her skirts, looking up at her with nervous eyes. "I'm hungry."

"Of course, my love," she spoke softly, smiling warmly at her son and nodding her head towards Robb to signal that she was going to the kitchens. "Grey Wind," she clicked her tongue.

Immediately, the large mass of grey fur stepped towards them, lowering himself down so that Eddie could sit on his back. Fianna often disapproved of this habit that had formed between her children and the direwolf, but she herself wasn't unable to lift Eddie currently, so she wouldn't take that away from him.

"Are we sticking with the formalities?" Tiernan smirked cheekily, leaning in and wrapping his arms around her tightly, taking her totally by surprise. She gasped quietly in shock, refusing to budge as he squeezed her in a hug. Eventually, she gave in, and wrapped her arms around him in return.

"Ah! The ice queen has melted!" He chuckled, letting go of her and casually brushing a stray lock of red hair away from her face, unaware that her burning cheeks weren't from the bitter cold air. He turned to Arya, giving a quick wave. "Hi, Arya!"

"Let's not pretend you came here to see anyone but Sansa," she smirked knowingly, ignoring the furious gaze Sansa was throwing her way as she turned on her heel to talk to Robb.

"Woah," Robb murmured, eyes following a cloth-covered corpse that was being carried out from the great hall. "What happened?"

"It's Petyr Baelish," she explained, uncaringly, only elaborating when Robb looked down at her again. "He tried to get Sansa to have me killed, whilst also simultaneously trying to get Sansa to love him. He also was the reason our father was captured in King's Landing, and killed our aunt Lysa."

"Well," Robb huffed, anger flaring up inside that he wasn't able to see the deed being done himself. "Good riddance to him."


"Another meeting?" Lord Manderly cried out, "by the gods, we need to be at home in the heat with our families!"

"Where is our King?" Lord Cerwyn bellowed, full of distaste. "He runs off to the Targaryen as soon as we name him King, and he still has yet to return. We need the King in the North in the North!"

"AYE!"

"That's why I have asked you all here today," Robb pleaded, trying to keep himself calm before he too would fall to their level and shout for not being heard.

The Lords and Lady gathered stared up expectantly, and it was that moment that Robb began to doubt his decision. His next words had the potential to ruin his relationship with his brother, and never had he thought politics would separate them.

But Robb tried to remind himself that Jon didn't consider that when he was about to bend the knee to Daenerys.

"Jon has been blinded by his fear of the white walkers," Robb began, aware that the rest of his family's eyes were on him too. Not even they were aware of what he was about to say, except for Fianna. "He means to bend the knee to Daenerys Targaryen, and give the North to her in exchange for her assistance in dealing with the Northern threat."

The heads of his sisters and brother snapped so quickly toward him, he was sure they'd nearly break themselves. Bran stayed unresponsive, probably already knowing what Robb's intentions were.

"IS HE A FOOL?"

"THE NORTH WON'T STAND FOR THIS!"

"AFTER EVERYTHING THE MAD KING HAS DONE!"

"Robb, what are you doing?" Arya stood up and leaned over Sansa, voice desperate and hushed. As much as she couldn't quite believe what she was hearing, she still held a close bond with Jon, and didn't want to turn the North against him.

"What he has to do," Fianna answered for him, still seated on Robb's other side. She too, felt guilty for the way they were approaching this - but they had no other choice. They had to end Daenerys' reign on the North before it even began.

Sansa stayed silent, looking as if she followed a bug. She too, couldn't believe what she was hearing. But rather opposite to Arya, she was angry at the revelation about Jon. This felt like a betrayal.

Tiernan tried desperately to meet her eye from across the room, but Sansa didn't lift her gaze from the small blood stain that remained where Petyr Baelish once stood in the centre of the ground.

"I did not lose most of my men, and my family, for the North to go back to the way it was," Lord Dustin interjected. "Burn me all you want, I have no more knees left to bend."

"I'm telling you this so you have a choice," Robb shouted over the humdrum of voices. "Because you deserve a choice."

"Jon didn't do this out of love for the woman, he did this to fight the white walkers and save us," Fianna called out, finally finding her voice. "But Daenerys Targaryen came to Westeros to conquer the Seven Kingdoms. She was given the opportunity to fight at our side, and pointedly denied it until Jon would bend the knee. She would have let us die, had she not seen the threat with her own eyes."

"Aifric Bua would rise from her grave if she heard this!" Tiernan hollered, receiving shouts of agreement from the rest of the Lords and Lady's. The only one silent that they could see, surprisingly was Lyanna Mormont. For once, she had nothing to say, or was rendered entirely speechless.

When finally she did speak, it was directed at Robb.

"You said we had a choice, how is that so?"

Robb hesitated, looking down once again at his siblings and wife for any semblance of encouragement, but all were looking elsewhere. He prayed that his father, wherever he may be, would agree with his next offer.

"You can choose to follow Jon, he'll likely be named Warden of the North and you will bend the knee to the Targaryen Queen," Robb sighed, his voice decreasing in volume. The only thing pushing him to continue was the voice inside of his head that told him this was right. "Or you can choose to follow me again. As your King. And we will stay a free and independent kingdom."

For the first time in his life, all the Northerners were silent, heavy looks of concentration on their faces. Robb was telling them to pick between brothers - brothers who had both served as Kings, for the sake of the North.

"How will you protect us from the Northern threat?" Hatrick Hornwood questioned, thinking about the safety of himself and his family.

"The only way I know how," Robb answered. "We fight."

"And what happens if Daenerys Targaryen swoops down on her dragon and burns us all?"

Robb didn't immediately have an answer to this. But Fianna did.

"Dragons are not immortal. Anything that can be born, can be killed."

Her husband looked down at her in mild surprise, shocked that she had seemed to completely turn against her Targaryen side once and for all. He wouldn't lie and say it wasn't a relief.

"I'm with Robb!" Lord Mazin announced. "Dragons be damned. You never should have gave your crown to your brother, boy."

"I'll support your reign, my lord," Lord Hornwood sounded out again, an anxious expression on his face. "But if it comes to the life or death of my family, I'll have no choice but to bend the knee."

"Lady Fianna's reign were some of our best years," Wyman Manderly added, whipping out his sword and slamming it down on the table. "The North thrived without paying taxes to King's Landing. Our food and grain were kept to ourselves. I know which brother I'm supporting."

"As do I," Sansa's tinny voice arose, much to Arya's fury. She ignored the dark eyes burning into the side of her face, as she rose up and stood next to her eldest brother. "We swore to never again bend the knee. And we never will."

Arya bit her lip in anger, hating that Robb was singlehandedly turning everyone against Jon, even if Jon had technically done that himself.

Bran stayed apathetic, the entire situation meaning nothing to him, for he had information that would push everyone over the edge had he chose to share it. He looked at Fianna in the corner of his eye. How curious a sight it was, he thought, how she had so little of an idea that it wasn't just her aunt she was turning against - but her cousin too.

Rickon looked rather frightened. Although he was much older now since the first time Robb had been hailed King, he didn't want to have to choose between his brothers.

It wasn't long before the chants broke out, echoing throughout Winterfell once again. It was something Fianna had heard a total of four times in her life, and she had sincerely hoped it would be the last.

"THE KING IN THE NORTH! THE QUEEN IN THE NORTH!"


Robb and Fianna were seated in the Godswood, watching in amusement as Bran and Aifric smashed wooden sticks together in an attempt to mimic a battle. Whenever one child would overstep or aim anywhere other than their opponents stick, their parents were quick to interfere.

"Jon may never speak to me again," Robb sighed to Fianna, his hand clutched in her own. She swallowed down, eyes cast to the ground before her gaze lifted to analyse his expression.

"Do you regret it?" She dared to ask.

"No," he said without hesitation. "I thought it would be better for them. To pass on the line of succession and make sure they lived simple lives. But I never want their father to burn to death, nor for them to live under someone else's rule."

"Perhaps the only way we can make sure that they don't see the horrors we have," Fianna mused, her brows creased, "is to make sure they grow up in a world where such horrors don't come to exist again."

"You're right, as always," he teased, using his free hand to tuck her dark hair behind her ears.

"Well, whatever happens," she smiled softly, something she couldn't help but do when she regarded upon him, "I'll be at your side."

"And I at yours," he hummed, pressing a soft kiss to her cold cheek. "I love you, my queen."

"And I love you, my king."


i've outdone myself again. 10 AND A HALF THOUSAND LADIES AND GENTS. MERRY CHRISTMAS.

First of all? Don't hate me! I mean, lets face it I'd be freaking pissed if I had to fight for the North for 7 whole ass seasons just to give it up to Daenerys. I love Dany, she's the reason I started watching the show and I'm not bashing her, but I just feel like throughout this whole book there wasn't a chance in hell the Northerners would bend the knee to her. And I doubt they will in season 8. This was my plan since I finished season 7.

i also feel the whole scenario above the wall makes sense here than in the show. what's more believable, Jon staying underwater for a prolonged time with heavy clothing and still surviving, or Fianna's escape? As for Benjen, that was such a titanic scenario in the show. There was no reason for him not to get on the horse too. At least here, there wasn't any room haha

So... you've had war of the five kings... who wants war of the three queens? Or instead of dance of dragons... dance of wolves?

Remember that we never saw Jon and Dany's POV this chapter. So you'll have to wait and see if they ended up together in this story like they do in the show.

Speaking of season 8, sadly, this is where I leave you until then. This book is going on hiatus until Season 8 is finally upon us. I sincerely hope that if you enjoy this book that you'll come back to read it in April. This book has been a whirlwind, and a year long journey. I will likely go back and edit the first half because I'm not 100% happy with it.

For anyone that wants to see one-shots/drabbles of Robb/Fianna, or them with the twins, or maybe even Tiernan/Sansa, keep an eye on the WIMH: Extras book I have on here!

Until then, thank you so so much everyone who has even simply opened the chapter. But for those of you that regularly comment, it lifts my day like you wouldn't believe. Sometimes I get down and don't think my writing is as good as it should be, but as long as anyone who reads it is happy, I'm happy.

Have a wonderful Christmas and a Happy new year, I'll see you all in April! X

Crystal-Wolf-Guardain-967 - That makes me so happy!

Scoob96 - This makes me so happy, because your approval is harder to get so when you like a chapter I get excited! I'm anxiously awaiting your response to this... go easy on me! x

LightningScar - Youre absolutely right, sorry about that! I'll be going back to edit eventually and I'll fix it. thanks for pointing it out!

otherworlder81 - I don't think Fianna CAN die at this point hahaah, you were right, Benjen came back!

Shannan - Thanks , i guess haha! Thank you for always being kind and supporive, i hope you like this and that you' ll still read after the hiatus! Have a nice christmas x

ReedusIsLife - Robb's guilt was elaborated a little, but it was mainly focused on Jon and Dany's, I hope you're okay with that! I also really hope you like this chapter, thanks so much for leaving a comment!

starevolution1273 - If you're looking for dramatic, this is the fic for you hahaha, a hiatus is gonna be sad I'm so used to writing this for over a year now! But at least you'll have a little something extra in April, i hope youll come back to read this when it continues! thank you for everything, you've always been so supportive and it means the world! x

Padfootette - thank youuuu!