A Song of Frost & Flame

by Chimaera1201

When Robert's Rebellion broke out, the ancient friend and ally of the Starks, House Tormont offered their oldest daughter to the Lords of the Corridor for their alliance. Powerful and respected, the Taugere family kept the way north safe and at peace for thousands of years. But a less known prophecy may declare if the world will freeze over again, or burn in the fires.

18. Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18 - THE WAR

It was a cold summer evening, as it normally were in the North. Light blue eyes scanned the great hall of Winterfell, where Rhegard Tormont sat alongside his father "The Grey Tom" lord Willmon Tormont and brother Gerald Tormont, whom some time ago quite admirably earned the alias "The Wild Cat" for his wantonness. He regarded him, the tall dark head man with clear blue eyes, and once again he admired his brother and heir to Pale Haven, whom was not at all like their father, always calm and precise. But despite his unconventional methods, Gerald saw great success in his endeavours, and fathered two more children while his own legacy was left to two daughters after he had wed to lady Lyenne of house Hornwood seven years ago. A fine woman with deep auburn hair and storm grey eyes, a soft face and an easy smile. But, sons or daughters, they were all Tormonts of Pale Haven. Then his eyes went over the rest of the hall, to all the lords who were summoned, all those sworn to house Stark on the orders of the current overseer of their country, the seventeen year old young lord and eldest son of their liege, Robb Stark. Initially, when lord Eddard Stark left for King's Landing to serve as hand of the king, they were happy for him and expected betterment for the kingdoms under his guidance; but the raven they received carried the ominous message of king Robert's death, and his chosen hand's imprisonment for a deed they would not believe. And of course, the Tormonts spared no time to come to the aid of their ancient ally with their men, arriving at the grey stronghold just the day after receiving the raven with their host where they were received with great pride. Finally, with all assembled, they shared the tables, discussing and debating on their path forward, which would lead them South. Lord Greatjon Umber, of Last Hearth was seated at the head of one of the long tables, a tall and powerful, proud man; and by bond the brother of his brother who had wed to lord Umber's baby sister years ago. He sat with the acting lord of Winterfell facing him, with his younger brother Brandon Stark seated next to him who was watching and listening to the hall full of men with both wonder and curiosity.

"For thirty years, I've been making corpses out of men, boy!" Greatjon declared loudly in the hall before leaning forward slightly, placing his hand on the table.

"I'm the man, you want leading the vanguard." he advised purposefully.

"Galbart Glover will lead the van, along with Gerald Tormont." Robb told calmly, much to the displeasure of the lord sitting opposite from him.

"The bloody wall will melt before an Umber marches behind a Glover!" he called out, and then folded his hands on the table before him. Rhegard smiled secretly; had it not been for the success of their family name, and the fact that they shared direct family bonds, he no doubt would have been affronted by that as well.

"I will lead the van aside Gerald, or I will take my men, and march them home." lord Umber threatened, bringing the young lord's attention to him solidly. Following a thoughtful silence through the uncomfortable stares of the men, Robb looked up from behind his hands, together in front of him with a sure nod.

"You are welcome to do so, lord Umber." then he stood from his seat at the head of the table.

"And when I am done with the Lannisters, I will march back North, root you out of your keep, and hang you for an oathbreaker." he assured, without a shred of repression, changing the expression staring at him from confidence to anger.

"Oathbreaker, is it?!" the Greatjon rose to his feet, knocking a chalice from the table that recoiled across the hall, drawing others up with him as his face was drawn in fury.

"I'll not sit here and swallow insults from a boy so green he pisses grass!" he retaliated, and suddenly reached for the dirk at his side as Gerald reached over to lord Umber, in an effort to calm his rage a moment before Theon Greyjoy, a lean, dark, handsome youth around the same age as Robb Stark whom had been ward in Winterfell for years, jumped up. He knew what he could be compelled to do, knew the Umber response well having seen it, lived with it for over ten years; and without warning a fierce dire wolf leapt onto the table, bounding forward in an attack to protect his master. There was chaos for a moment as the creature struck forward, knocking the tall lord back and sinking long teeth into an unprotected hand; while they struggled on the stone floor ripping two fingers from the limbs as Greatjon called out in pain. With the message sent and received, Grey Wind the wolf stepped back with his prizes still in his bloodied muzzle, allowing the lord to find his feet while the others stared in shock and awe.

"My lord father taught me, it was death to bare steel against your liege lord." Robb reminded as Greatjon stumbled to his feet, holding a mangled hand that once had five fingers as he stared at the young lord.

"But doubtless, the Greatjon only meant to cut my meat for me." he added, forgiving of the disrespectful words and actions as he watched the lord opposite from him calmly while he proceeded to kick the stool from its place, and it skid across the stones.

"Your meat..." he started, attempting to find his words and meeting the light eyes next to him for a moment, finally accepting its calmness as he paused, lingering in a short silence before looking back at the lord of Winterfell and raising his wounded hand and deliberately displaying the lost limbs. He could have had him executed for this, but he didn't. He had earned the proud man's respect, and he deserved it. They would follow him, wherever he chose to lead.

"Is bloody tough." he finished, and then slowly smiled as he started to laugh, and others shared the humour, lifting the tenseness in the air as it finally drifted over the hall. Then Willmon turned to Robb, ever calm and collected.

"Begging your pardon, my lord. May I ask your maester to borrow me a Raven? In accordance with your arrangements, I believe it may be wise to send my message as soon as possible." he requested, and Robb nodded.

"Of course, lord Willmon." he agreed, and Willmon moved through the hall to seek out maester Luwin for his request. He found the elderly man near the door to the kitchens, in discussion with a young page, but sensing the approaching lord he looked up, bringing his attention to the man with silver-blue eyes and long silver hair hanging past his shoulders tied back with a black leather strip.

"My apologies for interrupting you, maester." he pardoned, and the page took his leave after a short respectable bow.

"Not at all, my lord. What shall I do for you?" the maester folded his hands, watching the lord in front of him.

"I need to borrow a raven, if you don't mind it too much." he asked, and the maester smiled gently.

"Of course, my lord. Bound for which keep?" he agreed, starting to guide the Grey Tom to his tower.

"Mount Ardor."

Claira stood calmly in the great Hall of Fire, her left hand resting on the stone of the railing leading to the grand stairway while a white and grey ball of fur lay curled up and sleeping on her right arm; all of the fires burned brightly but only managed to chase some of the shadows from the vast twilight space. She looked up over the expanse that lay before her, listening to the merrymaking of her lord husband and his people echoing from their southern feast hall. Here after succession, they spent eleven years as the wardens Lord Raeghun and Lady Claira Taugere. Their proud sigil – a bright fiery phoenix gliding through a night black sky – hung on the castle walls. Their words: "From the Ashes we Rise! Stronger we Rise!" This was a promise, their promise, something that reminded her often of whom she was now. She liked these words, they made her feel solid, but will always remember those of her childhood home. 'Victory is the Red in our Blood.' She took the time to reflect on the past. They'd seen wonderful years, and devastating moons. Evenings lit by the light of the heavens, and dark days black as the hells. As foreseen, it was close to a full year before she was capable of managing completely on her own again without any additional aid, and for a while her husband and her protectors became her legs as well while she continued to improve while her family had remained ever supportive. She smiled, joyful that their family grew, in unexpected ways. Milla and Berin had two more children, both boys with the Trentin characteristics, except for the youngest who inherited his mother's ash blonde hair, named Berterin and Vaellion. In accordance with their ages, Milla received her second child during the time that Claira had fallen ill, and her third some time after Berterin saw his second moon. Not too long after regaining her strength, Gavin approached Raeghun with the request to marry nurse Mandeline, if he had her favour; to which he agreed. And as promised, Philpot was given ninety days to forge a ring of fine gold, and the couple met with him each day at noon for at least an hour in the extent of this time. Their wedding was celebrated in the sept of Garde's Post on a warm summer day, and they shared a home in the village to which they retired each evening when their duties were done, in time sharing two children, a son named Galeran who favoured the forge of his grandfather, and a daughter named Maynlid who often spent her time with the maidens of the castle. All of whom were relatively close to age with Rychon, and growing up as close friends within these halls, along with her only son, the heir of Mount Ardor and the future Warden of the Goldfields of the Corridor. They spent their days together, played, learnt and trained together when they could. Even from a young age, the children were included in all orders of the castle, joining their fathers in council and many other affairs; and they were eager to share their own opinions. And allowing grace for growth, most lords were not unfavourable to their presence, and even enjoyed them with all their fond expressions and silliness while young Bella, was growing to be an elegant court maiden in her own right, assisting enthusiastically with the management of the castle alongside the ladies. Claira's sister Carissa spent two years with them before returning home to Pale Haven, and shortly thereafter was wed to Hrodrich Scharer, uniting their families. And she was happy that now, the Trentins shared more with them than just a home. But there was loss and sorrow in their country as well, when lord Gerard Foch left this world, and Earndale Palace passed to his son Garrett. He was trying hard with the help of his eager but frivolous younger brother, but the rule of a port town might not have been their best suit, and Mount Ardor's court master Metron was sent to help find their feet, leaving the matters of the court to Raeghun. Not long ago, they were invited to attend the Hand's Tourney in honour of lord Stark's position as new Hand of the King; which her husband respectfully declined, having a known dislike of tournaments. But, aside from the realm's holy days they had their own three festivals during the course of each year, and they remained uninterrupted after the end of the last rebellion, of which the Horn Festival remained the most renowned with the fourth turn of the moon, and king Robert attended at least three. Later, she was told that this particular festival which was meant for everyone, high- and low-born of their country, was brought about by king Baderon 'Blackwing' Taugere, and derived from another celebration which was held during an eclipse, thousands of years ago. The others were 'The Feast of Last Dusk' held at Ramshorn the last week of the year, and 'Folklore Revelry' under the seventh full moon, where stories would be shared among all, historical or mythical.

"My lady?" a voice called from the stairs, and the gentle face of her best friend, which she'd not noticed before this moment floated gracefully up the steps of the grand staircase towards her.

"You are not feasting with the lords tonight, my lady?" she asked coming up the stone steps.

"Not tonight, I've found the festivities overwhelming. My dear lord husband enjoys their company though, let him saturate himself with it." She said, and then felt the little warm creature on her arm stir as she looked up. He quickly abandoned his perch on her arm, carefully clambering down her dress to the floor, and hurried towards his friend in short hop-like bounds, as through the great doors came a young boy who'd celebrated his ninth name day just a moon past. The heir of Mount Ardor, tall for his age, lean and strong, just like his father. A shrewd boy, but not fond of education as much as physical activities; having once forced Raeghun to forbid him from leaving the halls before finishing his lessons with maester Adlyn. As fathers often were with their sons, Raeghun spent as much time as he found possible with him, and was rather harsh on Rychon, wishing for him to be strong and courageous; and they'd had more than a single argument regarding this. But thankfully, he was never cruel, and his family was his entire world. In time, for his youthfulness, Renko was assigned as Rychon's sentinel, to guard his life with his own away from the castle grounds; but not needed when in training as they'd appointed their finest to those teachings, but as an only student whilst Berin insisted on training his sons himself each day during twilight, after finishing his regular duties; and having included his daughter in these lessons as well, thus ensuring that she would never be left defenceless. For a moment her eyes met the arch leading down into the depths beneath their hold, and they could laugh about it now, but not too long ago a frightening occurrence met their hall when the boys disappeared just past noon one day, and most of the guard were sent out in search of them. She and Milla were worried mindlessly with no word of them upon the guards return despite their search extending into the woodland beyond Garde's Post, fearing that they were taken by assassins; but then their sons simply appeared again by evenfall. Confessing that in their absence, they had ventured into the vaults in search of Mount Ardor's mysterious jailer as having heard stories from the guards, that he was a tall sinewy man with hair black as oil and skin white as milk; someone had mentioned that he had the eyes of a cat, hence his continued isolation to the dungeons. Perchance, someone had quite by accident left the gate to the cells unlocked. Both Raeghun and Berin were furious, accounting that the children were not allowed into the vaults; and the boys were confined to the wings of the castle for a week, but understanding the judgement she was simply happy that they were unharmed. However, after Raeghun met with the jailer, his fate had remained unknown to her. Then she looked back at the doorway, seeing Rychon in turn followed by a tall and comely summer skinned warrior with dark shoulder length hair, clad in leather and mail, a brown cloak hanging from his powerful shoulders and Summit on his back; with a new feature in the form of core steel and leather, fur-lined bracers on his wrists. In time, after countless trial and errors, Philpot found that this was the only steel that could be forged and reforged, over and over and over again without becoming weak and brittle. Later, he discovered that his best results came from melting the metal down completely, and casting it in stone, finally creating the unique armour; which five years ago was presented to her sentinel during the time of the Wanderer's Tourney, which they only once assumed as his name day, appropriate in the sense that his queen had given him his name in this time. This was the only gift he had ever accepted... She watched as Rychon ran up the stairs and to her with the white and grey animal in its favoured place, lounged over Rychon's shoulders like a winter pelt, and her son's arms open to greet her as she turned to face him.

"Mother!" she bent down to hug him back as his arms wound securely around her waist and Falgon stopped on the steps, bowing formally in greeting as was his norm.

"My apologies for returning so late, your grace. Your heir wished to ride the riverway home after his training. He is showing great improvement." He reported after apologising heartily.

"Thank you, ser. That is wonderful news, and your dedication is much appreciated." she smiled as she straightened, and Rychon looked up at her with his frost blue eyes glinting excitedly.

"I beat Falgon today." He reported happily, and she lowered herself to meet his eyes evenly.

"You did? You get better each day." She encouraged and he nodded. Wishing for the exceptional, and being in need of a skilled swordsman slightly stricter than their master-at-arms, Falgon agreed to teach Rychon the same way he did for Berin years ago, and relieved that he did not apply all of his father's initial methods, to them he was the best choice.

"He showed me how to dodge a side stroke." He explained, and then looked at his hands.

"Do you think I could show father?" He asked, and then looked up at her as she took his hands in hers.

"I'm sure he'd enjoy that. But he's been so busy lately, just give it some time to settle down, and train hard." She kissed his fingers, and then stood up.

"Go have your supper, and then it's off to bed with you two." she told him, and watched as he hurried down the steps again towards the kitchen with his pet still draped over his shoulders, and had to laugh. People often mistook the little creature for a pelt, but it was simply the place he preferred to be. Across her son's shoulders. Rychon had found the little white and grey ferret with black markings around his eyes in the woods almost a year ago, dragged from his burrow as little more than a juvenile by some predator and after quite a struggle that resulted in the loss of his right eye, left to die on his own. But they brought the animal home, and with maester Adlyn's advice and great care nursed him back to health. Initially they would have returned the ferret, in time named 'Wink' for his sightless right, back to the forest. But, he rather decided that he wanted to stay, receiving a good bit of fondness from all in the castle. They remained on the stairway for a while, sharing the activities of their day, the comfort of peace and all improvements of their home and around it, and Panora joined their company. Still in charge of Rychon's care within the lord's wing, but with most of the days and nights to herself. Before long, Rychon led the way back up the stairs with Berterin and Vaellion following as they discussed their skills and improvements fervently. Then Claira smiled as the children reached them, still conversing excitedly.

"Did you feed Wink?" she asked, watching the little creature still sprawled out over her son's shoulders, looking at her with a single glinting eye.

"Yes, Jeody gave him some chicken." Rychon reported, softly scratching the side of the ferret's jaw. Then she turned to the nurse still close by.

"Panora, please take Rychon for his bath." The nurse nodded and moved forward as Rychon looked up, seeming rather disappointed.

"But mother, I'm not sleepy, yet." he told, and she smiled as she looked down at him again.

"You will be. Go on, now. I'll come see you soon." She said, then he dolefully took Panora's hand as she held it out to him and together they made their way up the east stairwell and down the hall to the lord's wing. Then Milla smiled as she held her hands for both of her sons.

"Well, best I see these two off to bed, as well. Good night, my lady." she greeted, and Claira nodded.

"Good night, Milla. Where is Bella, I haven't seen her since noon?" she mentioned, and Milla sighed.

"In her room, most likely. She's been feeling slightly feverish." she explained,

"I hope it's nothing serious." Claira mentioned, and Milla smiled softly.

"I don't believe so. Maester Adlyn has given her something, so she should be about again tomorrow." she told, and Claira nodded.

"Good to know. Sleep well." Milla started to turn to head back to their chambers when her sons looked back.

"Good night, aunt Claira." they both called, and she smiled back at them.

"Good night, boys." she returned, and watched them head off. Milla had been trying to teach them to address her formally in front of others, but for the time being she didn't mind what they named her. They were family, after all. Then she turned to Falgon, who had been waiting patiently and now took one step up the stairs.

"Your heir shows infinite promise, your grace. Given adequate attention, he may become one of the greatest lords of this age." He praised, and she looked back at him.

"That is fine news. As his teacher, I leave that to you, ser." She said, and he lowered his eyes.

"I am no 'ser', your grace. I've not been knighted." He tried to correct, but she cocked her head slightly; they had this same argument every few moons.

"And I am not 'your grace'. I am no queen." He looked up at her again suddenly.

"You are mine." He said softly, then she nodded.

"And so, you are my knight." He bowed to her again formally, then she turned.

"Feel free to join the lords and their men at the feast. You must have had a long day." She suggested, but he remained.

"I will take my supper in my quarters, your grace. After I have delivered you safely to your wing." He assured, and then made his way to the top of the stairs to escort her through the great castle. Together they walked through the torch-lit halls. She always enjoyed his company, and reflected that even though he was a common former sellsword, he had better manners than most of the lords that came to their court, the ones that stared at her with eyes that did little to hide their thoughts, good and bad. People had different opinions of her since early on of course, as she wasn't at all like the other ladies and had been called quite a few different things... good and bad. The Lady of Frost was the official, but then there was The most beautiful woman in the kingdoms and The North Witch. She recalled the times that she attended several war councils along with her father, and apparently her will to protect her family was as fierce as any experienced military leader; and Falgon not only valued this rare trait but he encouraged it while her Raeghun would hide them away behind his masses. As a father, you do everything to protect your family – but the same is true of any mother, if not more so. But as far as wielding a sword for herself, she found that she couldn't. She had once asked her husband to teach her in the privacy of their garden, but had no strength in her hands to deliver a fatal strike; something that the illness had stolen from her as well. Each time that her blade met another, it would send an electric pain racing up her arms from her wrists, and this undertaking was then forced to be abandoned, having to ultimately leave her defence to her sentinels as before. These halls seemed endless but it was a pleasant walk with Falgon's stories, and finally they arrived at the arched dark-wood and steel door that separated the lord's wing from the rest of the castle, which in itself existed of an enormous space – a great tower that housed many spacious bed chambers, the main bath chamber for the noble family's use, and the lord's hall with a great fireplace, chairs, benches, a wide comfortable divan in front of the hearth, book cases, tables, fur rugs and pillows, red and gold drapes and curtains, her husband's exalted lion trophy and a private garden with her weirwood fountain. She turned back to him as she stepped through the door leaving him behind, and he bowed to her again in his always formal way. No man without direct ties to the Taugere name has ever stepped foot inside the lord's wing of the castle, save for the hands that tended to the private chambers and maester Adlyn.

"Sleep well, your grace. With your leave, I will retire." He greeted, and she smiled as she took hold of the door.

"Good night, ser. Have cook Jeody stock your plate with some extra crispels, on my instruction." He smiled gently.

"Thank you, your grace." For some reason, it was a rare thing that he would feast with them, and she hardly ever saw him eat anything at all, but he favoured them, the light sweetness.

"Sleep well." She slowly pushed the heavy door to close it.

"Good night, your grace." He remained bowed before her until the door closed; then as she stood with her back pressed to the wood of the door listening, she could hear his heavy footfalls move back down the hallway and disappearing in the distance, perhaps off to the kitchens to claim his reward she hoped. She looked about the hall, candles lit the table tops, torches burned along the walls and a great fire illuminated most of the room from the hearth, and mounted on the wall above the hearth of the lord's hall was the likeness of a phoenix moulded from gold and gems, the wings stretched across the walls on both sides, and the tail hung in waves down to the shelf from where Quill, the Taugere family weapon kept its vigil over its household. A beautiful, ageless Valyrian steel blade with the mighty phoenix worked into the hilt. Some of the servant girls roamed about, keeping themselves busy with clearing empty plates and used goblets and replacing them with fresh ones from the kitchen, exchanged empty wine vessels and old water pitchers for new ones. Another came down the stairs with a bundle of bedding clutched in her arms. Then Claira moved forward into the centre of the hall.

"You may take your leave when you are finished with your duties." She informed, her voice drifted through the still air, and the girls bowed to their lady before snatching the last of their missions and disappearing from the wing through the door. She made her way to the garden, and looked up at the stars, night had come swiftly. Silently, her steps led her in her nightly ritual to the unique fountain, still just as marvellous as the day her husband presented it to her, where she offered a rose petal of deep red to the water along with her request to the old gods: 'Keep my family safe; my blood and my name and all those who serve under us and stand under our protection. Guide us and greet us with a new sunrise.' She looked up at the face staring back, smiling gently and imagining that he could see her. That he could see them... Then she made her way to the bath chamber, where Panora patiently waited on the wood bench with a towel as young Rychon splashed and washed in a steaming bath with torches burning brightly on the walls, lighting the space. Wink, had elected to wait on the edge of the great bath, not being pleased with the notion of becoming wet.

"You may proceed to the chambers, Panora." She said, and the woman acknowledged her with a slight curtsy before surrendering the towel to head up to Rychon's room and assume her nightly place on her chair near the chamber hearth where she still kept her nightly vigil over him as she had done since he was but a mere two months old. Claira sat waiting on the wood bench as her son finished, then after drying and dressing he picked Wink up from the floor, and she accompanied him to his bed chamber where he lay amidst his many furs and pillows with his pet ferret curled up in the curve of his neck, listening to one special lullaby that was his alone in these nights, and his mother's sweet voice carried him.

Fly high, on coloured wings,

Across the fields of green.

To the mountaintops that tower high,

Where dragons dance and sing.

Now take the wind,

And travel far.

To a haven pale as snow,

To the mountaintops that tower high;

Who knows how far you'll go...

Despite his earlier denial of sleep, Rychon had soon slipped into his own world of light valleys and shining castles. She leaned down and tenderly kissed his brow before bidding Panora a peaceful evening, and leaving him to his sleep she returned to the hall to resume a book in front of the bright hearth. It was late into the night when she returned the book to its place in the book case and ventured up the steps to their bed chamber where she stood before the great bed with its green and crimson silks, reflecting on the day and debating with herself whether she should pay a visit to the bath herself. After another moment of deliberation, she took up a light blue cotton garb with copper ribbon and made her way down the steps and across the hall to the bath chamber and spent a while there, allowing the warm liquid perfumed with vanilla pods and delicate oils to soak into her skin. It felt good, to relax here between the white flowers that floated on the calm waters for the little absence she could take for herself and take in the heat for a time, and let the world go by until sleep all but took her in. She cleansed her body with the water, then dried her skin and draped the light garment from her shoulders before allowing her dual-hued hair to fall unhindered down her back to almost reach her thighs, and finally drowsy, made her way back to their bed. After closing the door behind her, she oddly found herself before the hearth once again, where she simply stood watching the fire in the smaller fireside of their chamber and listened to its chattering, how the flames danced and the logs cracked under the weight of the blaze, how something so simple could draw her attention this unexpectedly and so absolutely and she thought of her life here. Years, good and bad, and the change of many things, good and bad. And in the end, how she wouldn't change a single thing even if the gods granted her the chance to. Then she heard the heavy wood door of their chamber open and softly close, before footsteps followed hers along the floor and powerful, warm hands took her shoulders. Still as warm as ever on her skin, and she relished it. Her lord had come to offer himself to her, and she placed a hand on his as he buried his face in her neck and hair.

"You always smell so sweet. How was your day, may Claira?" He complimented as he kissed her shoulder. She smiled, noting to herself that she could always identify a peculiar bitter-sweet odour from him as well, much like raw honey. Yes, many things changed over the years, but they never did.

"Peaceful as always, my love. I feel rather sorry for you, having to entertain your men so much the past few days. Have your companions retired?" she asked, tracing the contours of his fingers on her shoulder.

"Not yet, they will continue with their merriments until they grow jaded with it." His lips branded another kiss on her neck, leaving her skin riddled with warm tingles.

"Then, should you not be with them?" she asked, dreading the answer while her hand slipped around his neck.

"I will join them again in the morning. You require my attention as well." She sighed slightly.

"You make it sound like an obligation." She teased, and he kissed her neck again, while his fingers deliberately released her shoulders from the dress ribbons, and it fell to her feet, exposing her ivory skin to the light of the fire.

"It is an obligation, one that I want more than any other." He teased back as his hands slipped around her sides and delicately seized her breasts while he pressed her body against his and he heard her gasp as her fingers stressed into the flesh of his neck; he smiled then closed his mouth on her neck again. He held her tightly against him, once more drawing a gasp as his warmth spread over her, her free hand rested against his unprotected thigh. He guided her to the edge of the bed where she lay down, and his mouth traced the length of her spine to the small of her back. His hands grasped her hips and his lips found her ear, his breath flowed over her in soft waves. He drew her up and pushed himself forward into her, forcing air from her chest in a slight moan again and again before he released her, allowing her to breathe freely as he turned her to face him so he could feast on the tender skin of her breasts and bury himself between her thighs, drawing soft whimpers and sometimes sweet cries from her as he released the fire of the great phoenix into her. As always, he made fervent love to her with the fire that he was, never having diminished in the slightest. Her arms coiled around him as she accepted him. Her Lord of Flame; powerful, valiant, immovable, unquestioned, unchallenged, forthright and severe, but he was always gentle with her... he never harmed her.

With the pink blush of morning on the horizon, Claira woke still closed in Raeghun's arms, as she had almost each morning for the past thirteen years. It was the best thing to wake up to, and as she had countless times before, wished that it would never need to change. She slowly brought her hands up to his face, and softly pressed her lips to his feeling his arms tighten around her.

"Raeghun, we have to get up." she whispered, and then his eyes opened.

"Just a little bit longer..." he returned through a sleepy daze, and she smiled sliding her arms around his neck.

"Just a little bit." she agreed, nudging slightly closer to absorb his heat before easing into him again; and just as sleep was about to claim her once more he moved, pressing his mouth to hers in a deep kiss before rising to start his day.

"Now that's just hurtful." she breathed as he headed to the dresser to retrieve his clothing, and she heard him laugh.

"I'm sorry, one of the things I can't control is time." he teased, listening as she flexed between the sheets, preparing to rise herself.

"Wouldn't it be nice if we could?" she mentioned as she sat up, bringing her feet to the floor.

"It would. Some days I would pass over entirely, while some moments I would stop completely just to make it last." he told as he sat down beside her.

"Each instant I have with my family, with you and Rychon. Those are the ones I want forever. But I'm only human, and not even the gods have the power to alter time." then she leaned forward, again bringing her arms around his neck as his went around her waist.

"I love you, Raeghun." she whispered, and his arms tightened.

"I love you, Claira." they held each other, unmindful of the sun that peeked over the distant rim of the world before she finally slowly drew back.

"Your plans for today?" he smiled, placing a moment's thought into it.

"Sparring, our morning meal, tending to whatever is necessary; and then perhaps we could take the boys hunting this afternoon. We haven't done that in a while." he decided, and she returned the smile of his entrancing eyes happily.

"They'd like that. I'll ask Falgon not to take Rychon off the grounds for training today." he leaned forward, placing his mouth to her brow.

"Good. I will meet with you again later." then he stood, and made his way down to the bath chamber to cleanse, and as habitual for most of his days dressed in boots, comfortable breeches with a white tunic under a leather jerkin before he proceed with his day as planned while the handmaidens entered to help her dress in a soft lime and ivory gown, brushing and braiding her hair and then she continued down with Rychon at her side to join the hall. They spent the morning like many others, up until the moment a page came rushing from maester Adlyn's tower to the high table where they broke their fast on bread, eggs, sausages, tomatoes and tea, presenting a small scroll to her. She took it, thanking the boy before he left and she unrolled the parchment, staring at the words that she found herself reading several times, and repeating it over, and over in her mind. It was unbelievable, so much that she wanted to refuse the words at first. But it was written, black ink on faded parchment, in the hand of lord Willmon Tormont of Pale Haven. Sensing her distress, Raeghun leaned closer to her.

"Is something wrong, my sweet?" then she looked up at him, still dazed in disbelief.

"It's a letter from my father. Following King Robert Baratheon's death, Lord Eddard Stark has been arrested on charges of treason. Robb has been summoned to King's Landing, and he's called the banners. They... They will be marching south soon, if they haven't already." she told softly as she handed the letter to him, which he held in his hands reading the words.

"Have they called on us?" he asked, still inspecting the letter.

"Not formally. But I expect they will arrive here within a few days before attempting to cross the border. The Tormonts have answered, The Grey Tom and The Wild Cat ride with Robb." she breathed softly, still not wanting to believe it. They had seen years of peace, and now... Now enmity had come, and bliss could never last... Raeghun rolled the parchment between his fingers, handing it back to Claira.

"We will have our preparations made in advance, in the event we are needed. But, let us anticipate nothing before we are secured." he decided, as his father had done years ago when he received word that several lords were intent on meeting with him; and their forces were already massed before lords Baratheon, Stark and Tormont met lord Rychard Taugere in the great Hall of Fire... and then her hand closed over his.

"Raeghun..." she started, and his fingers gently tightened.

"Just as a precaution, Claira. It is better to be prepared." he promised, and of course she knew it to be true. But it didn't lessen the sting of fear in her chest as Raeghun turned to Berin next to him, giving him his orders to see that all was ready. And after departing the southern hall, he met with maester Adlyn to send their ravens to the vassals, to start their preparations as well; and then the rest of the day followed as planned, their hunt delivering a sturdy stag to their evening tables amidst the sounds of their people, together in this place. But still, the approaching possible clash left Claira uneasy. She glanced at the table in front of them where the children gathered, and trying to keep Wink from ransacking their table, Rychon fed him small chunks of meat while he was sprawled across his shoulders. Watching them share their days was a joy, and they would never be alone; but just for a moment she wondered if they felt the same anxiety she did. But given their lively demeanour, she supposed not. Still so young, still unaware of life's difficulties. Still not touched with deep heartache...

"Claria?" then she looked to her left where Milla sat at her side, the green eyes watching her intently.

"I'm sorry, Milla. What was it?" she returned, shunning the thoughts from her mind.

"You've been very quiet. Is everything al right?" she asked, and Claira looked back at the children. "It's been a long day, that's all." she willed it away, and then softly smiled.

"We'll be fine. Just like before..." she said in a breath, perhaps more to herself than her friend. Then she felt a soft hand on hers, comforting as the words met her.

"I'm sure we will be." Milla whispered, and she knew that Berin had already told her about this morning. They left the hall after the order was given to have it cleared, making their way back to their chambers to surrender to the night. But once again, she found herself in front of the fireplace, watching the light and shadow dance with each other in the hearth, then felt the warmth of her husband's arms around her waist.

"Aren't you coming to bed?" his breath warmed her ear, and her hands wrapped around his wrists, secured around her body.

"In a moment..." then he gently branded a kiss on her neck as he just held her, again making her wish it would never end.

"The letter we received. It bothers you." he assumed as he pressed her gently tighter, and she sighed.

"I hoped, we'd seen enough suffering." she breathed softly, and then turned to face him.

"What will happen?" she asked, his blue eyes meeting hers.

"I don't know. At best, they'll simply ask for passage." he said, but she stared at him.

"And at worst?" he sighed, knowing the thoughts that clung to her mind.

"At worst, we will be called into alliance. We've always been more north than south, so the possibility will be high, I suppose." he said, and she glanced away from him.

"You've already ordered preparations to be made, they will take that as avidity." she mentioned, and he took her face.

"Claira, we always answer. The answers given, may not always be the ones expected or wanted, but answer we will." he told; and then her arms went around his neck pressing him tightly against her. Yes, they always answered. Always.

"I love you. I don't want to lose you..." she breathed, and his arms coiled around her, returning the pressure against his muscled mass.

"I love you. And I've made a promise to you before." then he pulled back, with a gentle smile.

"I will always return to you. There is nothing alive that will keep me from my family." he promised once more, and she pulled him closer to kiss him.

Within several days, banners were seen over the fields as their force massed at the burning mountain, awaiting their instructions while the lords met in the Hollow, where Raeghun sat at the head of the wide table in discussion with them all, including their sons so they would learn from their elders. The boys listened in silence as suggestions, opinions and proposals were shared from one end of the table to the other, but this time, did not share their thoughts. And finally, after hearing all of them, Raeghun leaned back against the chair, looking over those in his counsel.

"The full force of the Corridor currently consists of sixteen thousand fighting men. In the instance we are summoned, those remaining behind will be the women, the children, the elderly and the lame, who will not be able to hold our grounds." he shared, and then looked over those in attendance with him.

"I cannot leave my country weakened, we must make provisions to still protect our people. Ser Austinus, will three thousand be enough to set out patrols, and keep our lands safe?" he asked, bringing his attention to the elderly man to his left, who nodded.

"It should suffice, my lord. And when we are able, we will replenish our strengths." he agreed, and then Raeghun nodded.

"Good. Should it be deemed so, then six thousand will remain including the men needed to man the ships should it be necessary; and as before, they will be included in the patrols that will be set out to safeguard our country and it's people until we have word sent for them, as determined by the stewards whom remain behind to oversee the holds and all of their properties." Then he looked at a man just a few seats down to his left.

"Darius Foch, you will return to Earndale and act as it's custodian until otherwise notified; and also to launch our fleet should it be necessary. Upon receiving any instructions, you will have preparations made for a third to remain along our coastline, while the others make for any specified point. I trust that Metron will assist you in any means required." the young man nodded, eyes of blue and green clear with eagerness.

"Yes, my lord." he immediately agreed, having wanted an opportunity to prove his worth as a Foch. Then Raeghun looked back at the others.

"All of you have your assignments. The rest will ride with us." he ordered, and the others agreed. Then he stood, allowing the lords and their aides to depart to see to the necessary tasks. Berin left the chamber with his sons following, off to see to their approaching matters before Raeghun and Rychon stepped out into the hallway, and then he turned to him.

"Do you understand, why I divided our forces?" he asked, looking down at the boy next to him.

"To protect our people." he returned, and Raeghun smiled in approval.

"Exactly. In every situation, we must still defend our countrymen. Do you know why?" he further tested him.

"Because we need them." Rychon returned, to Raeghun's liking.

"Yes. Without them, we are left without resources. Resources that must feed, arm and warm our soldiers. Why is that?" he asked, and Rychon thought for a moment.

"If our soldiers don't have food and weapons, they can't fight." he said, and then Raeghun lay his hand on Rychon's arm.

"Precisely. Simple fact, is that if you take care of your people, they will take care of you." then he slowly lowered, gently laying his brow against his son's, for a moment feeling the soft sniffs of a wet nose against his skin as Wink inspected him from Rychon's shoulders.

"Respect earned, is greater than respect demanded. Always remember this." he told, and Rychon nodded.

"Respect earned, is greater than respect demanded..." he repeated, and saw his father smile again.

"Good." he praised, and together they headed down the halls. Rychon glanced up, at the giant man next to him. His lord father. How he wished to be just like him. So strong, so brave, so regal, so... celestial. He was the greatest man in the world, everyone knew this. There was no one, who was as infinite as he was; and he tried so hard to learn everything he could from him, and then they emerged into the Hall of Fire, seeing Falgon waiting at the massive doorway as he did most noons; and Raeghun looked down at his son.

"Go on, now. Get yourself ready, we'd like to see what you've learnt so far." he urged, and Rychon looked up excitedly. His mother had proposed a short demonstration of their progress, and he was eager to show what he could do. He had almost jumped on him this morning when his father told them to meet in the bailey later this afternoon. He took Wink from his shoulders and handed him to his father, who gently took him in a single hand.

"We'll meet you outside." Rychon smiled happily, and then started down the steps before stopping and turning back, his eyes glinting brightly.

"When will I train against you, father?" he asked, rather eager for the answer; and Raeghun smiled.

"When you're a bit older. A bit stronger. I promise." and then again motioned towards the great doors.

"Hurry now, the day is only so long." then Rychon left down the stairs towards the tall sentinel, who bowed formally to the little lord when he reached him, sharing a short greeting and discussion before he proceeded to follow him outside as Raeghun remained watching. He was grateful to Falgon, for assuming his son's training. He loved his son, and wanted to spend more time with him, so wishing he could have done it himself, but with his strength it may be too dangerous for Rychon right now. But, perhaps in another two or three years he may be able to stand against him, even in light training. Over the years from his youth, too many men had told him that they found it too difficult to spar with him, given his extraordinary strength; all except for Berin who had been his training partner since they were old enough to do so, and they'd grown used to one another. What his friend lacked in strength, he made up for in exceptional agility. Yet another rare trait and they found in time that these uncommon talents supported and completed each other, making theirs the ultimate combination of both sides in a clash. His father used to call them the two sides of a single coin, and they often laughed about it. But for now, he would rather not risk injuring his only son. Not until he found the Taugere strength that lay in him, as well. Then he held the ferret up in front of him, the single bright eye staring at him.

"And you? How fares your training?" he asked, and the little head cocked in a stare that might have passed as confusion; and Raeghun laughed, just before his attention was drawn by another shadow next to him, and he looked at the man joining him on the steps.

"Where are your sons?" he asked, and Berin smiled.

"On their way. Bella will be joining us as well." he mentioned, making his friend stare at him a moment longer.

"You've trained her well, I'm sure. But having her as an opponent, may be a bit harsh." he mentioned, but Berin remained smiling.

"I dare say, she's better than her brothers. She will stand." he approved as they started heading down the steps.

"And Berterin?" Raeghun asked, and Berin sighed.

"He's trying hard, and it's becoming better. Maester Adlyn has said that the... sensations may disappear in time. But for now, we will manage." he told. His eldest son was different from others, he experienced the world different than others, was affected by his surroundings different than others. And judging by several incidents they had, it couldn't be simply imagination. They accepted that he had a gift, something he would rather have called a curse. But they hoped he would in time learn to dominate these strong emotions, if it did not disappear in the future. They made their way to the bailey, and the boys passed them on their way out, already garbed in nimble dark-brown leather armour. They proceeded down the short stairway, finding Falgon and Rychon waiting near the wall, the young lord garbed in agile black armour much like that of Berterin and Vaellion; already with a sparring sword in hand.

"Well, take your places." Berin urged as they approached, and Raeghun noticed Falgon issuing a last advice to his son before he entered their sparring ring, facing his opponent evenly and bringing the sword up in front of him, but Berterin seemed somehow hesitant; then he looked back at Berin.

"Father, Rychon is too tall." he complained, and Berin scoffed.

"No excuses. You think your enemies will all be shorter than you?" he asked, and Berterin looked back at his adversary. It wasn't just that... He didn't act much the way a young boy would. He was too calm. The way he stood, the way he was watching him, the way he seemed to make the world around him disappear into nothing until just his presence was left... The blazing inferno raging over him. He had grown used to the flames swirling throughout the lord and his son, and the sparkle in the air of their lady like thousands of tiny flakes of frost glimmering in the sun. But then he looked at the man behind him, the giant watching him with equally intense eyes. Everyone in the hold admired him, the great sentinel; but there had always been something that made him vividly aware of him; and he couldn't tell why there was a darkness about him, rather than the light he brought to the halls. He was a gentle man, always kind, compassionate and caring to all, but there was something else as well. A shadow that followed him, the black wings of some distant horrendous memory...

"I'll stand against Rychon." they all looked back, at the figure of a girl smiling in the doorway, dressed in light brown armour, yet another sparring sword in her hand.

"You're late, Bella." Berin said, and she moved forward almost too gracefully for the situation.

"My apologies, father." she simply took a place beside Berterin, raising her sword as he gratefully moved away; but in a completely different position than Rychon. She faced him sideways, the sword in her leading hand in front of her, and her free hand lifted on her other side as if for balance, her feet set apart for swift movements.

"Swords aren't for girls, Bella. Shouldn't you get back to your embroidery?" Rychon called in a small tease, but she smiled back at him.

"I can handle a sword better than a needle, dear Rychon." she assured, and he looked back at Falgon for a moment for his advice. The dark eyes came to him, and he nodded before Rychon looked back.

"Al right. I'll try not to hurt you." he smiled, followed by a short silence as they watched one another. There was nearly a year difference between them; Rychon was tall and muscular, clearly favoured by strength like his father, while she was lean and light but several inches shorter, more prone to agility much the same as hers. Raeghun watched them, and secretly laughed. Two sides of a coin... Suddenly there was movement as Bella lunged forward into an attack, the tip aimed for Rychon's chest. He stepped forward, parrying and sending the blade away before retaliating and bringing the sword around and the steel found its way to the side of her neck.

"I win." he grinned, but Bella smiled back.

"Not just yet." he glanced down, seeing the edge of the blade resting against his stomach.

"Good. But I'm going easy on you, wouldn't want an accident." he said.

"You're not supposed to go easy on me. This is training, after all." she winked, and moved away bringing the sword around into another attack, which he defended successfully once more.

"I don't want to hurt you, Bella." he told, still in defence.

"That's al right. That just gives me more leverage." she teased again, slipping under his defending arm and coming around behind him, and attacking. But he turned, quicker than she expected and defended himself again, catching the blade on the cross guard, and making her gasp in surprise. This was a technique that only Falgon could apply successfully, something he was well known for. Now, inherited by Mount Ardor's heir.

"You're fast." he complimented, and then moved forward trying to force her back, but she slipped from the momentum and stepped away to create distance.

"And you're strong." she returned with a smile, watching as he readied himself again, facing her evenly with the sword raised in front of him. He glanced at their fathers, still watching them.

"Well, come on. Let's make it a good one." he urged, and she laughed softly.

"If you insist, my lord." she moved forward, faster than before and they met in a fervent clash, each talent attempting to outweigh the other. In spite of the young company, Rychon had always been closer to Bella than the boys. Yes, they shared their adventures and accomplishments, but there was just a little bit more, between them. Berin leaned towards Raeghun.

"Rychon is doing well. But it seems, he is only defending." he mentioned, and his friend smiled as he cast a quick glance at Falgon on the other side of their sparring arena.

"He is. In all likelihood, I am supposing that Falgon would have told him not to strike at a lady, no matter the circumstances." he assumed, watching Bella's movements slowly diminish.

"But Bella is becoming tired, perhaps it is time to end this." he mentioned, and Berin nodded looking up and called for her attention.

"Last bout." he told, and she smiled through a deep breath. In a moment she lunged forward, to bring herself closer to Rychon.

"Are you just going to stand there, all day? Your father is watching. Show him something!" she urged.

"Not while you are the one facing me, Bella." he told again, and she sighed.

"Then I will." she brought her knee up into his stomach, driving him down. Her free arm went up and over his shoulder, her elbow aimed for his spine to finish the match; but then he moved forward suddenly, pushing his shoulder into her chest and sending her backwards to fall on the ground. But she brought her knees up, rolling over and finding the earth with her knees to face him once again. Once more... She moved forward again, aiming the tip of the sword for his stomach, which he defended before bringing an arm over her shoulders and pushing her down to the ground.

"Last bout. I win." he said, and the sudden frustration burnt through her. Not yet... She released the sword, and slipped from his grasp, rising above him and shoving him down in turn. They rolled, but with her energy drained, the momentum was lost and she found herself on her back with his weight pinning her down and his knees anchoring him in place above her; watching as he brought the sparring sword up over her, aiming the tip for her chest. Instinctively, she raised her arms in defence as she heard someone call out his name, then felt the frightening tear of steel through leather... but there was no pain. Just a drawn-out silence as she listened to the sounds of heavy breathing before his weight lifted from her, and she dared to look up at him, smiling down at her with the sword next to her.

"I win." he said again, and she sniggered trying to stand up. But she was still held by something, awkwardly resisting her freedom from her position, and then she noticed the sword next to her anew. The tip was driven through the leather bands, and thrust into the ground, holding her in place. Even if she forced herself to, she would not be able to release herself from this, or to continue the match. It was over... He bent forward, taking hold of the grip of the sword, and pulled it free; then held his hand to help her up.

"Perhaps it is best, to keep to your embroidery from now on." he teased as she found her feet, but her grip on his hand tightened as she pulled him slightly closer.

"Next time, will be different." she promised, and then they moved away to join their fathers, and Wink clambered back to his place on Rychon's shoulders. As the heir's demonstration was done, Falgon was excused to assume his place in the lady's company and allow Berterin and Vaellion to show their improvement as well, ending with Berterin as the victor before they were congratulated and they slowly made their way back inside while Raeghun lingered behind with his son.

"I'm impressed, Rychon. You chose to immobilize your opponent, rather than striking at her. Wise, given the circumstances." he praised, and Rychon looked up.

"If you can't fight, the match is over. Falgon told me, that being unable to fight is the same as being dead, so rather your enemy than you." he mentioned, and Raeghun stared at him for a moment.

"He... He is teaching you well, my son. I wish I could have done it myself, but he may be the better teacher for you." he sighed, laying his hand on Rychon's back.

"It's not so bad. He has only one rule, for training; and he shows me a lot." Rychon smiled.

"Only one rule?" Raeghun was at a slight loss, you could write a book on the basic guidelines for sword training. As a matter of fact, there were a number of books on the subject.

"Yes. 'Forward. Always forward'. Not all methods work for everyone, you have to find what works for you." he quoted and Raeghun stared at him, suddenly realizing that throughout their sparring, his son never took a single step back. No once... and Raeghun started to guide him inside.

"I see. Your technique of restriction was also interesting." he mentioned.

"We were outside of the ring, the dirt is softer there. It wasn't too hard to shove the sword into the ground." he told, and another amazement found his father. That, was strategic. Evidently, Rychon already had a considerable knowledge of their grounds. Truly, he was destined to be one of the greatest lords of their future, and he could see his son be that man.

"Well, you also realize that you could have seriously injured Bella if that method failed you?" he asked, and Rychon's eyes lowered to the stones beneath them.

"I know. I didn't want to hurt her, I just wanted it to be over. What would people say of me, if I lost to a girl? Or even if I struck her?" he said, and Raeghun laughed softly. A boy of nine, that thought like someone well past his age, perhaps on the grounds that he had participated in the governance of their home and their domain since very early on. It was impressive, but also unfair.

"I am glad that you didn't hurt her, that you are able to control yourself. Some others, find that a bit difficult." he said as they moved through the Hall of Fire, noting Berin on the stairway speaking with Bella, having already allowed the boys to take the rest of the day for themselves.

"Many things counted in your favour, today." he said, and she looked away.

"I still lost..." she breathed, watching Raeghun and Rychon approaching up the steps.

"Which is why you need to be better. Rychon exercised a lot of restraint today. Others, won't do that. When someone wants to hurt you, they won't take into account that you're a child, or even that you're a girl. Never give anyone the opportunity to do that to you. Ever." she looked down, feeling that she disappointed her father; but then his arms went around her and he held her tightly.

"I might not always be there to protect you, and I can't bear the thought of anything ever happening to my family. So, you have to be able to protect yourself, when I can't. You have to try harder. You have to be stronger, for me." he whispered, and she held him tightly.

"I'll try, Dadda..." he held her a moment longer, and then released her as he smiled.

"Go on, the rest of the day is yours." he said, and she left to her chamber to find something more comfortable for the rest of the afternoon while Berin waited for Raeghun and Rychon to reach him. He smiled as they reached the top of the stairs.

"Well done, my lord. Your skill is remarkable." he praised, and Rychon smiled back.

"Thank you, uncle Berin. Bella is very good, too." he returned politely, and then Raeghun softly pet his back.

"Enjoy your afternoon." he urged, and Rychon left to find an activity to fill the rest of the day, which was spent in the garden with his friends, passing the last of the sunlight with less strenuous games such as hide-and-seek, leapfrog and floating improvised 'boats' of tree bark on the fountain, amidst the rich colours and smells of their home until they were summoned inside for the evening feast.

Days came and went, yet too soon the northern banners could be seen emerging over the horizon, settling on the land and by noon the northern masses joined those around the grounds of Mount Ardor, and a group of nobles were met in the great stronghold's outer bailey as a stalwart young Robb Stark rode through the gate of the burning mountain along with Willmon and Gerald, greeted by the lord and lady of the hold, and their close companions. Robb was the first to dismount, and approached the lord of the hold, eagerly extending a hand.

"Good day, lord Taugere." he looked up at the man facing him, quite a bit larger than he was; but then saw an easy smile on the features despite the burning blue searing into him.

"Welcome, lord Stark." he returned, with a solid handshake while Willmon stood with Claira.

"Claira, my sweet rose." Willmon breathed, holding his daughter in his arms as Gerald extended a hand to Raeghun. Robb cast a quick glance at Berin at Raeghun's side, the smile of a distant memory playing on his features.

"I remember you." he recalled extending a hand, and Berin took it as he laughed.

"I should hope so, my lord. You once shared my saddle for a week." he reminded, and saw the eyes become clear as the vague memory of a six year old child, altered to a week spent in happier times.

"Oh yes, and what a week that was." he thought back to it, the days of carefree laughter and games...

"Where's your brother?" Berin asked, scanning the faces in the bailey, and Robb shrugged.

"Made for the Wall some months ago." he replied, and Berin nodded, seeming rather disappointed that the youngsters could not remain together, recalling their excited faces and eagerness to join them long ago.

"We didn't expect an assembly?" Gerald mentioned, glancing back at the gate where masses of soldiers waited beyond for their instructions.

"We received your message." Raeghun replied, and then looked at Willmon.

"And you answered, before being called. I greatly thank you for that." Robb said, bringing Raeghun's attention back to him, but the words were dense with guilt.

"We will always answer." he assured, and then extended his hand to greet Willmon as well, while Gerald embraced his sister. Raeghun glanced over the small group of men that entered their outer bailey.

"You are welcome to take your rest here, until you decide to proceed." he offered, wondering how much the host outside their walls grew.

"Thank you. But, given the situation, and with your forces already massed, it might be best to ride again with sunrise." Robb answered, and Raeghun nodded before looking back at his wife.

"Claira, my sweet. Would you be so kind as to present lord Stark with our Fern Apartment? I'm sure they've had a long journey." he asked, and she nodded before courteously guiding the young lord inside. Then his attention went back to Willmon.

"Is it true? Treason?" Raeghun asked, almost under his breath and Willmon sighed.

"I don't believe it. Not for an instant. Honour is the core of house Stark, he would never betray anyone, much less his king and best friend. Someone lied, but it wasn't him. It couldn't have been..." he told softly, and then looked up.

"But I pray that we will see the amendment of this, and that it ends soon." he hoped, with a small smile.

"I believe that we all do." Raeghun agreed, and then Rychon came down the steps with Falgon and Renko following to greet them.

"Grandfather! Uncle Gerald!" his enthusiasm was not spared, as he hugged each of them; and they returned it happily, despite the conditions.

"You've gotten big." Gerald noted as he released the boy, and noticed the fur over his shoulders, looking at him.

"And who's this?" he asked, scratching the ferret's jaw, and Rychon glanced at his pet, enjoying the new attention.

"This is Wink." he introduced, and Gerald smiled.

"I used to have a pet ferret, when I was about your age. Snowy, I called him. He was pure white, and always used to steal my gloves and stash them under the bed." he recalled a long past memory, and they shared a small laugh.

"Well, if it meets your approval, we will join your mass with the morning. The sooner we see this through, the sooner we may all return to our lives." Raeghun mentioned softly, and Willmon nodded.

"Thank you, my son. You have spared us." then they were invited inside to spend the remainder of the day there in whatever peace was left to them, before they would ride again at first light.

That evening, after sharing supper with family and guests alike, the hold diminished into a sinister silence as their members retreated to their chambers for a long night, and Raeghun stood in front of the hearth of their chamber after seeing that his son was well asleep, and waiting for his wife to return from her bath, staring silently at the flames dancing on the logs as his mind was ravaged by the thoughts that tore away at him. Each person saw war at least once in their lifetime, and this was the third in his, now for a second time he would need to leave his family behind. Why it had come to him was undue, but he accepted this role long ago. He could hear the scorn of the southerners; Rebel! Traitor! Titles that were no honour to bear. But he would carry them for a while before they faded away, if justice would be theirs. Whatever others called him, he was still a man. A leader who must see to his people, a father and a husband that needed to keep his family safe. He would face whatever threat rose against them or he was called to, and then return home. Later, he heard the door to his far right as Claira passed through, and her soft footsteps approaching him before she finally wrapped her cool arms around his waist and lay her cheek against his bare back, holding him dearly.

"You're leaving tomorrow..." she whispered, and his hand rested on her arms around his stomach as he nodded slowly. Again, he wished that there was no need for it. But call or no, the phoenix always answers. The phoenix always rises.

"You will be safe, until I return." he promised.

"I know." she whispered as he turned, and her arms exchanged his body for his neck so she could draw him closer, and closed her lips over his in a deep kiss. His arms wound around her waist and held her securely to him.

"I love you. The gods only know, I wish I could be so much more." he whispered as his brow rested gently against hers, the touch of frost and flame merging.

"You are everything to us. Husband, father, leader, protector. You have nothing to prove, to anyone." she returned, her arms still anchored around his neck, resting on his strong shoulders. Shoulders that held the weight of a liege lord...

"I love you, my Claira. I love you so much, I never want to leave your side. It's just that... I can't risk war coming to us instead of meeting it elsewhere, there's too much to be lost. I'll do anything, to keep you safe." he breathed, watching her as his heart flamed for her. His Lady of Frost; beautiful, kind, gentle, compassionate, caring, free and beloved, but still fierce, bold and honoured, and she could smile.

"I love you, and I've wished so many times that this would not have come to us. But I understand, however hard it may be. I know you want to keep us safe, that you want to keep all of your people safe." then her arms slid back, and her hands touched his face.

"You are a wonderful man. You think so much of everyone else, that sometimes you forget about yourself. But, you need to take some time think of that, as well. You need to take care of yourself." then he leaned down, softly placing his lips to hers and inflaming every sense she had. Her fingers slid down his chest, the shape of the tendons and then the segments of his stomach, the forms of his ribs under scarred skin and powerful muscles, all still preserved by his gruelling daily training; while his warm fingertips tenderly glided up her naked back to her neck from her hips and slipping the gown ribbons from her shoulders, allowing the light gown to fall to her feet and exciting her skin into tiny mounds and further feeding her awareness of his burning spirit through his kiss, as slow and deep as their nights with the stars everlasting in their sky. He was absorbing her, every aspect she was and for just a moment she imagined herself disappearing into him, almost to the point she was strangling an urge to seize him and she had to pull back from him, rather taking a deep breath to ease herself, and his name escaped her lips as she softly laughed.

"What's wrong?" he sniggered back.

"You have no idea, of the things you do to me..." then his arms tightened around her.

"Oh, I can't do anything to you that you haven't done to me a thousand times over." he joked as he pulled her closer to kiss her again, his burning blue eyes melting into hers.

"Let me prove to you again, how much I need you." he smiled, and wove his fingers through her hair as he started guiding her back towards the bed. But unexpectedly, she stepped away and around him, turning him to face her, and the golden glow of the fire behind them as she smiled whimsically.

"No, this night it is my turn." and her mouth seized his again eagerly while her hand found the lace of his breeches; and freed him from them. Bared to the light and the air, she carefully pushed him back and he lay down on the bed watching her as she mounted his hips, bringing them closer. Their eyes met, the endless frozen and burning blue uniting as her hands rested on his powerful chest, and his hands clasped her thighs. Slowly she started to move above him, kindling his senses and feeding the fire in his blood. She leaned down, pressing her mouth to his, exchanging their fervent passion as his right hand moved up her back, and the fingers slipped into her hair, drawing her into him, further fuelling his blaze as his muscles tensed and hardened. Her right hand moved down, softly tracing icy routes down his chest and stomach to his thighs, and then gently guided him into her as she moved down with a soft gasp before rising away and moving again. She gasped and moaned as she moved, bringing subtle utterances from his lips while she steadily increased her rhythm, and drove him as freely as she did her Brazier across their golden fields in the last shine of dusk; his sighs of pleasure exchanged for moans as she moved like water draining through the earth. His fingertips left light red lesions on her back as he spilled his seed into her, and hers finally dug into the hard muscles of his shoulders with a rapturous cry as she discharged all of her strain unto him, her body seizing in small shivers as she slowly lay down on him, once more thirsty for his warmth and his arms circled her, holding her against him while they both attempted to reclaim their breath; and some time later she had taken a place next to him, with the fingers of his left hand interlocked with hers, and his right arm around her, her cheek rested against his chest as he held her.

"Raeghun..." she looked up, revealing the glint of tears.

"I never want this to end. I never want you to leave us... I never want to watch you riding over the horizon again, wondering where you're going and if you're coming back... I never want you to stop making love to me..." he held her closer to him, pressing her cool skin against him to ease his.

"I don't want to go. But we are needed." then he smiled gently.

"And tonight, I will give you everything." he whispered, leaning forward and seizing her lips again with his, in a slow deep kiss that burnt through them like wildfire through a winter forest.

While the northern lords, and their commanding vassals departed Mount Ardor before dawn to rejoin and coordinate their own forces, Raeghun spent his final moments on the steps of the great hold with his family as once before and the sound of a warhorn could be heard washing over the fields while the soldiers assembled, mounting their steeds as the ominous warsong met the first of the sunlight, followed by the weep of their sentry tower bells as the sun rose. His armour was a fine steel breastplate, with the house sigil worked in red on its centre over mail and leather with his black cloak hanging from his shoulders. It once belonged to his great grandfather, lord Vaeghun Taugere; also remembered as 'The White Phoenix'. A proud man, an honourable man who ruled these lands with blood and steel. The steel of his allies, and the blood of his enemies had there ever been any. The majority of their soldiers wore scale or chain mail with leather, as it was lighter. While those with mass, preferred plate mail. Berin stood with Milla and their children, holding each of them, his own armour with the cloak of blue and crimson as heavy as his heart.

"Train hard, and listen to your mother." he told as he held both of his sons, and then turned his attention to Bella placing his arms around her.

"I'll see you all again, soon." and then he looked at Milla, a difference to his features as if he hesitated for a moment before wrapping her in his arms and placing his lips to her brow is a soft kiss.

"I will return to you..." it was the softness of his voice that had her arms constricting around his waist.

"You always do..." she whispered back, holding back a sob, and then his lips found hers gently in the last touch they might share. Raeghun's hand was securely on his son's right shoulder while Wink hung over his left as he leaned forward, their brows touching.

"You are a lord of the burning mountain, Rychon. You must act like it." he said softly, and felt Rychon nod.

"Yes father..." he agreed, and then Raeghun smiled as he drew back, and scratched the little ferret's jaw to bid him goodbye as well.

"Take care of your mother for me." he asked, as Rychon looked up at him.

"I will." he promised, and then the lord's attention went to his wife, still holding Quill in her hands. She presented it to him, after as once before keeping the sword close to imbue the blade; and he took hold of the sword, in turn giving it over to a young squire to fasten to his saddle, then looked back at her so their eyes could meet. There was a short moment of silence, and then he closed her in his arms, holding her tightly as her arms circled his neck.

"I love you, my Claira. We'll send letters when we can." her arms constricted, pulling him as close as physically possible, pressing her face closely against his throat.

"I love you, my Raeghun. Stay safe..." she returned, battling desperately against his surrender. But he pulled back, and captured her lips securely with his, in a final deep passionate kiss that he wished would last indefinitely, but finally he released her and just held her against him for another moment as she shivered against him, cursing the world for its endless selfishness. Why this plight could not have passed over their lifetime, was undue. Their family had been forced into separation before, and she'd hoped they would not have the need to face that emptiness again...

"Each night when you watch the stars, think of me; and I will be looking back..." Then suddenly, he was gone from her, and in silent torture she watched as he moved away to find his steed, with Berin following. Her hand closed over her mouth to strangle the waiting tears, and with the need for a hold, her free arm went around Rychon next to her, and held him tightly. His hand found hers, gently trying to comfort the tremors racing through her lean hands, the cold ever penetrating through his doublet. But together they watched, taking in the last memory of their loved ones. Then she felt a presence next to her, looking up into her best friend's light green eyes as the Trentins completed their family, watching their lords, their fathers, their husbands, walk away into the rise of a war. Raeghun mounted his massive warhorse, the hilt of Quill ready for his hand in front of his left knee, and then he looked back up, at a figure waiting off to one side next on the steps of his home.

"Ser Falgon!" Instantly, the warrior walked forward and bowed formally to his liege.

"How will I serve, sire?" he asked, prepared for any order we would be given, and saw Raeghun smile, the essence of trust with a shadow of sadness behind the confidence of the expression.

"You have served my house faithfully for years. You have command of Mount Ardor. Watch over my home and my family for me." he commanded, and the warrior nodded in acceptance of his order as Raeghun scanned the bailey, the burning blue eyes gliding over the faces staring at them.

"And if I should die on the battlefield, and you let some pretentious nobleman comfort my wife; I will rise from my grave and haunt you." Fully aware of his skill, this final part was more a warning directed to the nobles whom chose to stay behind to oversee what remained of the forces and maintain the order of their country, so the warrior who'd been given this honorary position said nothing, but bowed his head. Then the masses of soldiers left through the castle portcullis with lord Taugere leading the way; the heavy falls of thousands of feet and hooves causing the earth to move and shudder while the ladies retreated back into the safety of the hold with the children to watch their departure from the crown of the sun tower; the great black river of marching soldiers following the lords, the many coloured banners, the shine of armour in the sun. The sight of a named ten thousand men merging with at least twelve, following their lords to war was as magnificent as it was heartbreaking, and Claira's arms grew slightly tighter around the shoulders of her son, inattentive to the little creature squirming away from the pressure against her body as she desperately held on to her heart, and the lords of the Corridor joined the lords of the North. Robb looked over the joining mass, noting that a face he had hoped for was missing.

"Where's your friend?" he asked as his eyes rested on Berin.

"At our lady's side, as is his place." he told, and the young lord nodded. Of course, someone would need to remain behind... Then he looked at Raeghun.

"Shall we proceed, my lord?" he asked, taking up the reins in his hands.

"Whenever you're ready, lord Stark." Raeghun agreed, the ardent blue of his eyes hard as steel in the morning light; and they started forward. On over the green of the fields that melted away under the quaking of hooves, and thousands of boots marching on; shields and swords and bows and spears and mail ringing in the movement as the banners Foch, Rames, Violet, Haslinger, Umber, Glover, Bolton, Karstark, Tormont, Scharer, Stark and Taugere among the many, merged into a single ravaged mass over the earth. Raeghun drew his horse to a halt, watching as the soldiers passed, taking in their unity as they forged onward, the steel glinting in the light of the early sun, and then looked back at the massive castle looming over their country in the distance, how it seemed to sparkle and stand out in the world. Keep them safe for me... And just for an instant, he wondered before Garrett Foch rode up to his side. Sensing the trail of his thoughts he thought he could direct it in a different way, and he smiled admiring the magnificent breastplate.

"A splendid piece of armour, my lord. You truly look fit for glory." he complimented, and Raeghun glanced down.

"Oh, this? It was my great grandfather's; my smith dug it up out of the armoury. But it's warm, in all likelihood I would only apply it when facing a battle." he decided, and Garrett's eyes softened.

"Don't worry, my lord. We'll be bound for home again, soon." he assured, and Raeghun shared his confidence.

"The sooner this is ended, the better for all of us. So, let us meet our challenge." he returned, and once more spurred his horse to a canter to rejoin the front of their forces, on to an old sentry tower just a league from the King's Road through the Corridor, named Oakhilt.

The day passed slowly under the drag of the sun, the world bereft of the voices that used to fill their halls; and just for the day the children refrained from their daily sparring to spend their time in the garden of the great castle. Rychon sat on the stone bench near the back of the garden, listening to the slow trickle of the water spilling over the edge of the basin as he heedlessly stroked the fur still on his left shoulder while watching gulls fly overhead, casting their shadows in the last of the light. Berterin had invited him to play hide-and-seek with them again, but feeling as sombre as the dark clouds in the distance, he felt no need for any activity. If he'd been just a couple of years older, he could have joined his father; and he found himself wondering where they were, what they were doing; imagining in his mind what it may be like. The glory of battle...

"Rychon?" he looked up, and Bella was standing beside him dressed in in light lilac purple, her hair hanging in a braid down to the small of her back.

"Oh, hello Bella." he sat back against the rest of the bench, allowing Wink to slide down to his lap and further to the ground to go inspect something in the shrubs that caught his attention.

"Are you al right?" she asked, and he sighed watching his pet hop into the leaves of a nearby bush.

"Yes, I'm fine." she moved forward, claiming the seat next to him.

"It's too quiet..." she breathed, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

"It would be. Aside from the sentinels, we only have sixty guards to hold the castle and the village." he explained as he looked over her, the uneasiness clear in her deep green eyes.

"Are you afraid?" he asked, and she slowly nodded. But he smiled.

"Don't worry. We'll be al right." he assured, and her eyes came to his.

"You're not afraid?" she asked, and he laughed softly.

"No." but then he buckled under the intense stare of his best friend.

"Al right, maybe a little bit." he acknowledged, and she laughed with him, before just sharing a moment of silence as they stared over the blue of the horizon, and the dark storm clouds resting on the rim of the world. It was comforting, to have her with him. She seemed to understand him, more than the others. He enjoyed spending time with Berterin and Vaellion, playing and wrestling and comparing their feats; but this kind of depth couldn't be reached by them. A connection to one's spirit...

"Your mother has arranged an earlier supper with Jeody, so we might be able to have an early evening ourselves. But, I'm not sure if I'll be able to sleep at all. Things feel so empty now..." she said softly, and Rychon looked back at her.

"Oh, they'll be home soon then everything will be back to normal." he assured, and she smiled. A gentle smile that he was very fond of.

"Thank you, Rychon." he smiled back, looking at the sun setting through the clouds on the horizon.

"You're welcome, Bella." She seemed to stare at him for a moment longer, fixated on something and then finally looked away at the red above the thundering edge of the world. Away from his entrancing eyes that she could have sworn changed... but then, it may only have been the last light of the sun reflecting off the frost blue.

"How long do you think they'll be gone?" she asked as they watched the last glint of the sun disappear into the clouds.

"A few weeks, maybe. It depends." he tried to calculated, hoping it wouldn't be longer.

"All things considered, will you still go off the grounds for training?" she asked, followed by a short silence.

"I suppose we will. I can't train here like I do with Falgon in the woods, and he's really not the type to idle around." he replied, silently hoping that his teacher might choose to spend more days at the hold instead of having him run through the intricate maze.

"He's pretty hard on you, isn't he?" she breathed, wondering what it was they did in the seclusion away from the hold.

"I confess he pushes me very hard, but at least he doesn't flog me like his father did." then he looked back at her.

"You've seen the scars on his arms, haven't you? He said that those, was mostly because of that." he told, and she stared at him.

"I didn't think that came from a whip." she couldn't imagine it, really.

"Not a whip. The edges of a sword." he said, and she looked away at her hands in her lap.

"That was very cruel..." for a moment, she hated someone she didn't know; not understanding how he could brutalize someone as gentle as their Falgon. She had always been captivated by him.

"It was cruel. But he's never spoken badly of his father. He only said, it was necessary to make him strong. If it wasn't done, he would never have been who he is." Rychon said.

"But to do that..." she couldn't imagine it, the simple thought of it made her shudder. Harsh as their own father were sometimes, it was incomprehensible to think they would ever do something like that to them no matter what.

"Well, he's happy here. I think that is more important to him." Rychon breathed, and then looked up as Wink came hopping back from the leaves, with a large yellow leaf clasped in his jaws. He stopped next to Bella's feet, and proceeded to clamber up her dress onto her knees before laying the leaf on her lap, then looked up at her, with his one clear eye.

"Thank you." she laughed, taking the leaf in her fingers, and stroked down his grey back as he stood up against her with his front paws pressing against her chest to sniff her face.

"He likes you." Rychon sniggered, and she glanced at him.

"Wink likes everyone." she pointed out as she looked back at the face with the black mask marking.

"Only if you have food. You don't have meat on you, do you?" Rychon said, and she shook her head with another laugh.

"No, definitely not." then Rychon sat slightly forward, with his hand stretched out.

"Wink, here." he called, bringing the ferret's attention to him, and then he hopped off Bella's lap to climb up Rychon's arm back onto his shoulders.

"You like handing out presents, don't you?" he teased, scratching Wink behind the left ear. Then they looked up to see Mandeline coming down the garden path with Maynlid's hand in hers. She smiled warmly as she met them.

"Come along, children. It's almost time for supper." she told, and they stood to follow her inside where the last of the feast ware were being laid on the tables, and they supped on warm mutton pies with sweetened carrots, spinach, and stewed fruit alongside apple press before having the hall cleared and heading up to their chambers for the night. Falgon returned to the guard's hall after seeing his queen and her heir safely to their wing, retaking his place in front of the hearth where he watched the flames. Patrols have been set out to circulate the country and keep watch on their lands, and the remaining lords will have reports sent to them whenever they could, while the patrolling units made up of anything between ten to twenty men would present themselves and their accounts whenever they passed. And from here they would do what was necessary to maintain the order of things. Sixty guards, and only four sentinels remained behind, being Renko, Wymon, Gavin and himself. And he would protect this keep, and all in it to his full extent. A shadow moved across the wall next to him, and he turned to see Wymon taking the seat next to him.

"Congratulations on you new position. Must I assume that you will be giving a list of orders to us?" he teased, and Falgon looked away from him.

"No. You know exactly what you are supposed to do, and in the instance that you don't, I trust you will ask." he replied.

"Command doesn't change you." Wymon laughed sitting back.

"I will do whatever is necessary, but ser Austinus will still have authority over the barracks and the guards as always, seeing as he has been part of its order for many years. However, I will give my word and wisdom freely whenever it is needed." he told, and Wymon nodded.

"You don't think that the castle will be besieged?" he asked, more cautious than before.

"I hope not. But we will defend it, at any costs." he said, a vow behind the final words.

After days of marching, the sun hid away behind a clouded sky as the masses of soldiers settled around Oakhilt, the tower holding its vigil over the King's Road. Tents and pavilions and halter posts erected for temporary use. Robb moved forward towards a table inside a large pavilion, with his bannermen and allies from the Corridor in counsel with him.

"The Riverlords are falling back, with Jaime Lannister at their heels. And lord Tywin is bringing around another Lannister army from the south. Our scouts confirm it is even larger than the Kingslayer's." he informed them all, but the Greatjon Umber smirked back at him.

"One army, or two. The kings in the north, threw back hosts ten times as large." he told, glancing at Willmon at his side.

"They did, but that was when war came to them. They knew their lands, its people, its rivers, its mountains, its forests. It's easier to manipulate your enemy on a land you control, and understand." he agreed, looking at the maps, studying the layout.

"So, we'll need to understand theirs." he looked up again, noticing a figure standing in the entranceway to the pavilion while the men came to their feet, and Robb looked back following his eyes. He smiled as he turned.

"Mother!" he received her happily, albeit a bit of a surprise as she looked over those under the shade of the pavilion, her light eyes sparing a moment longer for the liege of the Corridor, whom she'd not expected to meet here as well, before returning her attention to her son.

"You look well..." she paused, not knowing how exactly to proceed, but Lord Umber smiled warmly.

"Lady Catelyn, you're a welcome sight in these troubled times." he greeted from the other side of the table. Theon Greyjoy regarded her nervously.

"We had thought not to meet you here, my lady." he mentioned, and she breathed in a moment of silence.

"I had not thought to be here." she returned, and looked at the others again.

"I would speak with my son alone. I know you will forgive me, my lords." she requested, and Greatjon looked around over the others.

"You heard her. Move your asses! Come on! Out!" he ordered, forcing the others to quickly file out into the dull light of day. Catelyn once again stared at Raeghun as he moved to pass her, and then she smiled softly.

"Good day, lord Taugere." she greeted softly, and his burning blue eyes met hers.

"Good day, lady Catelyn." he returned, having to look down from his height.

"Thank you, for granting my son free passage." she said, not being able to think of anything else under his stare.

"You're welcome, my lady." then a hand rested on his shoulder, bringing the ardent eyes away from her to the silver-blue eyes beside him, and her attention to lord Willmon.

"Good day, my lady. I trust we will meet again, before dusk." he greeted, and she nodded.

"You too, Greyjoy. You bloody deaf?" they heard from behind them as Greatjon proceeded to scoot Theon out from the tent as they moved off to a fire burning warmly in a close-by stone circle, and then lord Umber looked at lady Catelyn, still with an easy smile.

"Have no fear, my lady. We'll shove our swords up Tywin Lannister's dunghole, and then it's on to the Red Keep to free Ned." he assured her, and then looked at ser Rodrik as Catelyn's side; whom was the master-at-arms of Winterfell for some decades.

"You old devil, Rodrik." he exclaimed raising a hand as the elderly heavy-set man with white whiskers smiled back.

"Jon." he greeted as they turned, making their way to the circle to join the others.

"You're not wasted away, are you?" Greatjon's voice disappeared into the air, while Catelyn Stark and her son stared at each other for a moment longer, and she took him in. The furred cloak over his shoulders, the armour covering his chest, and the sword ready at his side... His father's son. Then she moved forward, wrapping her arms around his shoulders to hold him, and his arms circled her in an endearing embrace before she pulled back, taking his face in her hands.

"I remember the day you came into this world, red-faced and screaming. And now I find you leading a host to war? Including the lords of the Corridor." she recalled the memories, weighing them against what she found here.

"Lord Taugere's wife is still of the north, and we need all the help we can get. Besides, there was no one else." he explained as she stared at him.

"No one? Who were those men I saw here?" she questioned him, and he shrugged slightly.

"None of them are Starks." he defended.

"All of them are seasoned in battle!" she reminded him, well aware of their capabilities, having seen several clashes over their past. His face hardened, as the eyes came back to hers.

"If you think that you can send me back to Winterfell-" he started, but she sighed as she shook her head.

"Oh, would that I could." she breathed, realizing that she couldn't. Already, it had gone too far. Already, his feet were set too deep on this path... Then he eased, and turned heading to the other side of the table.

"There was... a letter. From Sansa." he told, retrieving a parchment from a leather scroll and bringing it to his mother.

"From the queen, you mean." she amended him, and opened the letter in her hands, sitting down on one of the small chairs surrounding the table and reading the words written in the hand of her eldest daughter. Once, and then twice...

"There's no mention of Arya?" she looked up at him, perhaps there was more? Something not written in the letter, but he shook his head.

"No..." he confirmed, and she thought in silence as she rolled the parchment between her fingers, finally she looked up.

"How many men do you have?" she asked, and he took the seat next to her.

"Twenty eight thousand, including the men from the Corridor. If I go to King's Landing and bend the knee to Joffrey-" he started, but once again his mother silenced him.

"You will never be allowed to leave. No!" she leaned forward.

"Our best hope, our only hope... is that you can defeat them in the field." she told him, secretly grateful for the fact that she saw The Grey Tom and The Wild Cat in her son's company. Their skill, and the strength of the Corridor would be of great use to them, and may even bring him advantage.

"And if I lose?" he asked, and she thought for a moment.

"Do you know what happened to the Targaryen children when the Mad King fell?" she asked, and he recalled the stories.

"They were butchered in their sleep..." he remembered, and she slowly nodded.

"On the orders of Tywin Lannister. And the years have not made him kinder." she warned, and he took that in. It was a hard truth, but a truth nonetheless.

"If you lose... Your father dies. Your sisters die. We die." she added, and he nodded before looking up at her again, seeming to have made a decision.

"Well, that makes it simple then." he smiled, and she sat back. His eyes were clear, determined and unafraid. And she smiled back.

"I suppose it does." she agreed, and then he looked up at the men circling the warmth of the fire, in discussion possibly on how they will proceed.

"Fortunately with the great strategists of the north, and the strength of the Corridor under his son as our ally, we might even have a chance." he joked, sharing a small laugh and finding hope in the idea that this joining was favoured by fate. Then stood and walked over to join them, ensuring that all had their orders. They would move on again, soon...

In the days that passed, much of life continued the same way it always did despite the silence at the burning mountain, and with no court master, Claira took over her husband's duties in his absence. She met with their nobles and countrymen whom came to court with disputes and requests with both Milla and Falgon at her side. She sat on the phoenix throne, hearing the last of this day's matters as a young man stepped forward and bowed low.

"Good morning, milady. May the gods watch over your lord husband and his men, and bring them safely home." he greeted before raising his eyes to her.

"Good morning, and thank you for your prayers. Which matter do you bring before me?" she asked, and he fumbled his hands together.

"A matter of recompense, milady. I own a dairy farm a day's travel from here. And I humbly request, that you issue an order of payment for livestock I lost to the farmer on the grounds next to mine." he explained.

"And how did it come, that you lost livestock to another farmer?" she asked, and he paused.

"We share a pasture, milady. He left bales of old hay in the field bordering his side of the field, of which my cows ate. Apparently, the weather did not do well for the bales. My cows became sick, and they died within a few days." he further told, and she looked around at the members hearing her counsel.

"Is this farmer here?" she asked, and he looked away.

"No, milady. I asked him to come, but he wouldn't." he told, and she sat back.

"How many cows did you lose?" he counted silently for a moment.

"I think five, milady." he answered, and then waited anxiously for his answer as she thought. After a moment she breathed, and looked at the man in front of her.

"Please understand, that as the adjacent farmer is not present to defend or explain himself, I cannot simply issue an order for recompense. I must hear both sides, to pass a fair judgement. I will however, issue a summons for him to attend court, and I expect both of you to return before the week is done. In the interim, to avoid any future difficulties, may I suggest that you each have arrangements made to attain your own pasture." she told, and his hands dropped.

"But, milady-" he started.

"One week. And please, take my advice to heart." she finished, and he slowly bowed before turning to leave. She watched the faces around the hall, wondering what it was they thought. She tried her best to be just, and sometimes it was necessary to steel herself. Some, were less than pleased with her decisions while others seemed overly happy with them, and it was quite a bit harder without Metron's advice. She looked up at Milla, who stood next to her.

"Is there anyone else?" she asked, and Milla smiled.

"I don't believe so, my lady." she confirmed, and Claira breathed out relieved.

"This is exhausting. I don't know how my poor husband manages it, each day." she jested, and then stood.

"What a way to end a dispute." Milla laughed softly, and Claira smoothed down the front of her amber dress.

"Oh, it's far from resolved." then she looked back at Milla.

"Do you think I've wasted his time? Having to come back here?" she asked, searching for some comfort.

"No, and of course you need to be clear on every fact before making a final decision." Milla said, and Claira's eyes went to the tall sentinel behind the throne, smiling as if he were trying to smother a laugh of his own.

"Is something wrong, ser Falgon?" she asked.

"Not at all, your grace. I find your court very intriguing, and rather enjoy your additional advices. Not many would give that, choosing to end the immediate issue and move on, rather than finding a long lasting solution." he praised, and she could find some understanding for why she felt so drained. Perhaps, she was trying too hard...

"Well, then. Is there anything that still awaits us?" she asked, and Milla thought for a moment. Claira had a sound mind, and a fair memory; but with everything it was easy to forget things, so Milla tried to be aware of all the appointments and assignments so she may be able to meet all her current responsibilities.

"Not that I'm aware of, my lady. It seems the rest of the day is yours." she said, and Claira nodded.

"Good. Let us try to enjoy it." she smiled, and looked at Wymon waiting off to one side.

"Wymon, please have arrangements made with the stable master to have the horses readied for a ride this afternoon. I believe we need some time in the country." she asked, and he bowed formally.

"Yes, my lady." he turned and headed down the stairway as her attention went back to Milla.

"And we, may ask Jeody to prepare rations for us." she proposed, and they started towards the kitchen where their cook prepared hard cheese, fruits, nuts, bread, salted meat and water skins for their ride; and after noon they found themselves crossing a green hill on horseback with their sentinels and several additional guards in attendance. Rychon astride a dapple grey gelding called Nix led their way with Wink on his shoulder next to Bella on Dawn, her gold mare; with Berterin and Vaellion following on their brown geldings Rutt and Jumble, and Galeran with his spotted mare Dolly between them in front of Claira on her Brazier, and Milla mounted on her dark mare Autumn; Mandeline mounted on a skewbald gelding with Maynlid sharing her saddle, from where she often smiled at her father Gavin just behind them. Claira was grateful for this, feeling the strain leave her body with every step her rose-gold stallion took forward. They shared lively conversation, happy memories and dreams for their future as they rode, rounding the fields and slowly heading back to the hold, where Falgon signalled the sentry towers to have the gates closed after they passed through. He dismounted, handing Galeo's reins to a stable boy, and then headed to Brazier, raising his hands. Wymon continued to Milla, offering his hands to help her down, while Gavin helped his daughter and wife.

"Are you not training today, ser?" Claira asked, taking hold of her sentinel's powerful shoulders as he helped her down from her stallion's back.

"Not today, your grace. I believe we've returned a bit late, we will resume training tomorrow." he said, gently placing her on the ground, not noticing Rychon's secret smile as he silently cheered that he would not endure such harsh exercise this day.

"Thank you, ser." she smoothed down her dress once again, and then smiled as she watched her son politely helping Bella from the back of her pony as well, delighted that he had learnt this level of refinement along with everything else.

"I'll meet with Jeody on the final preparations for supper, you may all take the rest of the day to yourselves." Claira announced, allowing the guards and sentinels to take their own ways after entering the hold. The remainder of the day was peaceful, and they shared the southern hall over a supper of roasted goose with country greens, berry pie and fruit press before returning to their chambers. Claira waited while Rychon finished his bath, and accompanied him to his room where Panora already took her place on the chair near the little hearth. She covered her son with the sheets while Wink waited anxiously on the pillow for his friend to take his place, and he could find a comfortable spot in the curve of his neck; and Claira sat down next to him, singing his special song which usually sent him off to sleep, but this night as she brushed his head and leaned over to kiss him his eyes opened and he looked at her.

"For how long was father away the last time?" he asked, and she drew slightly back.

"Several months." she told, and Rychon breathed in.

"How long do you think he'll be gone now?" he asked, and she felt her heart tighten in her chest.

"I don't know, my love. Hopefully, not very long." she tried to smile, but they both felt the emptiness. The loneliness that was left. Then she leaned forward and kissed his brow.

"Try to sleep, it's been a long day." she encouraged, seeing him smile as he imagined seeing their banners cross the fields, on their way home.

"Good night, Mama..." he said softly, turning and finding his place between his pillows.

"Sleep well, my sweet boy." her fingers stroked his soft black hair, and then she stood issuing a soft greeting to Panora as well before tending to herself and heading to their chamber, where she stood on the balcony overlooking the eastern fields, looking up at the stars. Each night when you watch the stars, think of me... And I'll be looking back... she felt herself growing warm, from her cheeks down to her stomach as she thought of her husband, wishing that the heat that spread through her was more than just a memory. Good night, my love... Then she returned inside and took the quilt from the foot of their bed, folded it three times and wrapped a tunic around it, positioning the form next to her, and hoping for sleep that finally took her deep into the night while Falgon sat in front of the hearth of the guard's hall with a book open in his hands. Then he looked up at the flames, a soft smile on his features.

"You should be asleep, child." he said, and then heard the light footsteps coming closer.

"I know, but I can't sleep. And I know you're awake until late at night." the voice came in a whisper, and he looked to his side to meet the deep green eyes.

"Can I sit with you, for a while?" Bella asked, making the sentinel snicker.

"Just a little while, or your mother will have me racked." he agreed in a jest, and she moved forward happily, carefully clambering onto his knees.

"No wonder you got out of the wing without anyone noticing." he mentioned; she was feather-light, nimble and near to silent.

"It's not the first time I've slipped out, it's pretty easy." she told, again making him laugh.

"You'd have made a great scout. Even experienced runners don't have the natural ability that you do." he praised, and saw her smile.

"Thank you. At least it makes up for my disappointing sword ability." she breathed, remembering her utter failure several days ago.

"You handle your sword fairly, as well. But the difference between you and Rychon, is that you have different methods. His training, aims to bind his strength and use its full potential, while yours mainly focuses on your speed. Both of you, have your fathers' traits. You must know how to use it." he encouraged, and she looked up. At his arms. The numerous scars that covered his skin, many overlapping another, and her small fingers traced the lines of several of them.

"I'm sorry for this. Did it hurt?" she suddenly asked, and he laughed glancing at the obvious blemishes.

"It was long ago. And I don't remember the pain, little Bluebell. Only the lessons." he said, and she stared at him. That he could take something so dreadful, and change it to something so valuable, was inspiring; and she would try to remember it. Then she lay down against his chest, trying to take in his calmness.

"Will you tell me a story?" she asked, and his hand gently lay on her arm as he shared one of his many experiences with her. A less suspenseful adventure he had with a small group of mercenaries near Volantis when they were sent to retrieve a relic from an old ruin, a rusted old sword but with a famous name. The ruin was severely overgrown, and they'd heard rumours of its halls being walked by the dead, and despite his companions' superstitions they managed to find the artefact, clearing the area of feral animals before returning to Volantis to claim their reward. Then he looked down, at a sleeping child against him and sighed. He held the tiny body against him a moment longer, wondering what his sisters might have been like. Off to bed with you, then... He carefully stood with her in his arms, heading for the east wing to deliver her to her bed. He softly pushed the door open, and stepped inside, laying the little figure on a soft wide bed and covering her with the sheets before leaving again in silence and shutting the door.

"Thank you, Falgon." he heard Milla's voice, and then turned to see her standing behind him in the hallway.

"My apologies, lady Milla. I shouldn't have trespassed." he apologised, but she smiled.

"This is your home, you have freedom of the halls as much as I. And the children feel safe with you, I am grateful for that." she glanced down, through a light laugh.

"I dare say, that my daughter is very sweet on you." she added, and Falgon glanced back at the door.

"I can't imagine why." he teased, and they laughed together.

"You are one of her 'precious people', if I recall her naming correct. And the children need someone of strength to look up to, in the absence of their fathers." she told, and he nodded.

"That is very kind. And I will do my best, my lady." he promised, then bowed to her.

"Sleep well, lady Milla." he greeted, and she nodded.

"Good night, ser Falgon." she turned, returning to her own bedchamber while she listened to his footsteps vanishing down the hall. She paused at another doorway, carefully pushing the heavy door open just enough to see inside, ensuring that her sons were well asleep and then returned to the warmth of her own bed, surrendering to the night and only waking again when the purple sheen of dawn lay on the horizon. She dragged herself out of bed, going through her wardrobe to choose a dress while she waited for her handmaidens to arrive. The day followed like most others, dressing and meeting in the southern hall to oversee preparations for their morning meal, a short visit to their gardens before being served sweet grain with milk and fruit with tea, praying under the weirwood fountain and then tending to the matters of the hold, inspections of the barracks and its rounds with ser Ausitinus; and finally by late afternoon they could spend some time in lady Claira's common room while Falgon took Rychon out for training, temporarily leaving Wink in Claira's care; and Gavin saw to the ongoing exercise of the Trentin children as asked by Berin. Claira looked up at the open window towards the deep blue of the sky from the embroidery in her hands, having chosen to create a vision of an orchid vine around the hilt of a sword. Her husband's sword, as best she could remember it.She watched the sun burn a bright red over the calm of the distant ocean, far beyond Blazewater Bay where their ships once held vigil over the castle in a time similar to now.

Their forces had moved onward towards the border and just passed the edge of their country, leaving the Goldfields behind and erecting an encampment where they continued their arguments on their best movements; and there was also the ongoing debate of counting the legion of the Corridor among the northerners, which as of yet had not been decided. But for now, Raeghun sat in counsel with Berin at his side, along with all the other commanding lords while ser Rodrik loomed over the maps spread out on the table inside the tent, explaining his point.

"The scouts report that lord Tywin moves north. We need to get him on broken ground to put his knights at a disadvantage." he indicated, and Greatjon stood to contest that notion.

"No, we need to get around him and break Jaime Lannister's siege of Riverrun. Do that, and the Riverlords will join us." he proposed with a wry smile.

"Any additional aid we could get, would be useful." Berin added, seeming to be of the same mind as lord Umber.

"To do either, we need to cross the river. And the only crossing is at The Twins." Robb added, indicating the twin towers that spanned the river. Willmon nodded, having to agree. There were other crossings, like the Ruby Ford further south, but this could be easily closed off by their enemies; and the Broken Passage Footway to the west, little more than a shallow ridge through the river, easily crossed by horse if it was not flooded, but not nearly wide enough to pass an army. And none as sure as the Twins; however that could make their presence too distinct.

"Lord Frey controls that bridge." Theon mentioned, and then looked at lady Catelyn, also present in their counsel.

"Your father's bannerman." he further indicated, and she sighed.

"The 'late' lord Frey, my father calls him. At the Trident, he didn't appear until the battle was done. Some men take their oaths more seriously than others." she told, bringing her gaze across all in the tent.

"Robb's right. We need that bridge." Theon agreed, and Greatjon leaned forward placing his hands on the table.

"So what's it going to be? Do we move against Jaime, or lord Tywin?" he asked, looking up.

"Well, whatever we choose to do, we must do so quickly. We cannot linger here." Gerald urged, and then two soldiers entered the tent, dragging a stranger with them as the lords turned to them, bringing their attention to the unknown man.

"Beg pardon, my lords. We've captured a Lannister scout." one of the soldiers apologised. Theon reached forward, taking hold of the edge of a map and bringing it forward so it would fold, hiding their intentions. Greatjon smiled as he looked back.

"Don't worry, lad. He won't be leaving this tent with his head." he assured, looking back at the scout who stood meekly, the darkness in his eyes betraying the fear that shuddered through his body.

"Where did you find him?" Robb asked as he rounded the table towards the intruder.

"In the brush above the encampment. He looked to be counting." the soldier reported as Robb stopped in front of the scout, examining his features. Dark hair, dark eyes, dark clothes, lean and light as any runner would be.

"How high did you get?" he asked, and the scout looked up timidly.

"Twenty thousand, maybe more." he told as Robb stared at him, and there was a moment of silence through the tent as they wondered what the best course would be, now that they've been discovered.

"You don't have to do this yourself. Your father would understand-" Ser Rodrik started, but then Robb turned, his sure words silencing him.

"My father understands mercy, when there is room for it. And he understands honour." he said, his eyes meeting each of those staring back.

"And courage." he looked back at the scout, silently deliberating his choices.

"Let him go." the order came, and the others came to their feet in surprise.

"Robb..." lady Catelyn called to him, but then bit down on her words as his stare came back to her, sure and confident which forced her to relent to his decision, and she nodded. Then his eyes met the ardent blue next to her, and after a moment he too issued a sure nod. The decision that had been debated for days was finally made, and Robb returned his attention to the scout, bringing himself closer.

"Tell lord Tywin, winter is coming for him. Thirty thousand northerners marching south to find out if he really does shit gold." he told softly before drawing back, and the dark eyes came to him in both utter relief and surprise.

"Yes, my lord. Thank you, my lord." the man thanked him heartily, and then the soldiers at his sides released him before he vanished from the tent into the night. Lord Umber stepped forward, watching as an enemy escaped with information he was not supposed to have, and then turned back towards Robb, furious at the turn of events.

"Are you touched, boy? Letting him go?" he demanded, but the youngster stood his ground.

"You call me 'boy' again." he urged, watching the face in front of him twist in anger.

"Go on." he encouraged again, rather eagerly; but then Greatjon forced himself back, and turned to leave thinking better of his desired actions, recalling his last outburst that was fuelled by his Umber pride. With the intense energy away from the pavilion, Robb turned back to the others.

"Go, make sure everyone has their orders and try to get an amount of rest. We march again at first light." he urged, and then watched as his counsel slowly made their way out from the tent, lord Willmon offering to accompany lady Catelyn to her shelter. Raeghun and Berin were the last to leave, following several of their commanding members.

"Lord Raeghun." Robb started as the man reaching six feet in height passed him, but he paused as his attention came to him.

"If I may..." Raeghun looked back at Berin.

"Go on, see that the others are well informed. I'll join you in a moment." he allowed, and his friend vanished into the night along with the others before Raeghun turned to Robb.

"What can I do for you, lord Stark?" he asked, and the young man faced him.

"It's Robb. And you've done more than was asked. But why count yours among our men, though?" he asked, and Raeghun smiled.

"It is a little-known fact, but we've always been more north than south. Besides, a greater number might send a shiver up the spine of our enemies." he tried to jest, bringing a light smile to the face in front of him. Our...

"You answered a call that was not given, and you've joined our cause in a war that wasn't yours. I've heard many stories of you and your people; and you are everything I've heard you to be, and more." he said.

"My wife was born a Tormont, the Tormonts are one of your closest vassals, and somewhere you share ancestry with them. The reality, however vague it may be, is that we were connected to your cause since long ago." he told, and Robb looked away from him, having to shield his eyes from the blazing blue, still so light even in the shadows of the tent.

"Thank you. I will not forget this." he said softly, then Raeghun nodded.

"Perhaps someday, you may find a way to return our favour. Good night, lord Stark." he greeted, and then left the pavilion, out into the night to find his own. He met a group of men in discussion a ways off clustered around a fire, yet again debating on the most suitable course.

"Is it wise, to divide our forces here? Lord Tywin's army alone equals ours, according to the reports." lord Roose Bolton informed. He spoke softly, but his deep voice penetrated the night in the still air. Raeghun looked at him as he took a place beside Berin, he had a plain face with thin lips; but cold grey eyes that could make a man shudder. The same features that once threatened his wife, the same that once enraged him.

"Smaller units are easier to control, they move better and aren't as visible as a large force. It might be the better option." Gerald stated, bringing to light the intuition that their family held for aeons.

"For surprise attacks, yes. To get in and out in a matter of moments, with minimal casualties. Not against a battalion." Berin added, bringing the Wild Cat's light eyes to his.

"If a small group is overwhelmed, they wouldn't stand a chance. We'd have better strength, to hold the force together in an onslaught." ser Rodrik interjected, favouring the notion of fighting fire with fire, as it were.

"Yes, we would. But less flexibility." Willmon reminded, having rejoined the ongoing discussion from is escort of the lady of Winterfell a short while ago.

"It is true, we'd have strength in numbers. Yet, to divide the full force, may give us a slight advantage by supplying distractions." Raeghun added, and then smirked.

"In addition to swords and spears and bows, our men train for unarmed combat as well. In the instance of a battle, if you lose your weapon your enemy won't wait for you to retrieve it. Your hands are the only ones you have left, you must know how to use them. The basic perception of this, is that if your opponent leads with his left hand, he intends to strike with his right." he looked at Berin.

"And you recall your first sparring match with Falgon?" he asked, and Berin smiled following his thoughts.

"I do. He changed it. Unlike others, he led with his left and while my focus was on his right, he struck with his left as well. If not for my speed at that time, he could have broken several ribs." He recalled. Yes, if they could focus their enemy's attention where they wanted it, they could strike at them easily.

"But, I might suggest to hold off our final decision, until we cross the Trident further into the Riverlands and have a better knowledge of our adversary and their grounds. To stand here debating on a notion we do not yet understand, will not help us." he proposed to the others' compliance, agreeing that a logical decision cannot be made on presumptions.

"Want to hide away behind your men, lord Taugere? Are you afraid?" a voice came from the shadows behind them, and Raeghun turned to face a young man, whom was born under the name of Greyjoy. Evidently, he'd not heard the entire exchange; and was not overly shy of revealing his dislike of them. Not a great surprise, as they were among those who laid siege to his childhood home.

"Do not mistake my caution for weakness, young sapling." Raeghun warned.

"Run home if you want; lord Stark might just hang you for an oathbreaker upon his return." Theon returned, not much of a shadowed threat and Raeghun walked forward, towering over the younger man as his ardent eyes seared into him, and he was forced a step back by the energy emitting off the figure in front of him.

"I've sworn no oaths to the north. And you're welcome to bring whatever fortune you might have to my walls if you dare, ward of winter." Raeghun invited, only just aware of a several light sniggers from behind him. It was a laughable notion, but rather than being disgusted and enraged the lords found the exchange refreshingly amusing. The calf challenging the bull, so to speak. Over thousands of years of storms and sieges, Mount Ardor has never been broken.

"Enough! There is no need for this!" a voice drew their attention, bringing their stares to another beside them and the face looked back with something that might resemble shock, or revolt. Robb took hold of Theon's arm and pulled him away.

"We cannot hope for any success, if our people are divided. We need them, and I will not have you agitating the situation." he told softly, followed by a short uneasy silence as Theon looked down.

"My apologies, my lord..." he mumbled, and then Robb pushed him into a direction.

"Go see that the horses are properly tethered." he instructed, watching as his friend sauntered sombrely off to see to his order before turning back to Raeghun and Berin behind him.

"I apologise for that, lord Raeghun. Theon is an eager young man, good with sword and bow; but perhaps too boisterous." he pardoned, hoping that they did not find his recent action offensive enough to take it to heart.

"There is eager, and then there is foolish. His arrogance shows that he has a tendency for the latter." Berin breathed, recalling several similar instances from their home over the past years as he stood watching the figure disappear into the shadows, and Raeghun sighed. The bigger the head, the smaller the heart in the end...

"I will not deny that his warmongering is cause for concern; I've never had a trust for someone with a big mouth. But as he has lived with you for nine years, and you seem to trust him, I will leave it at that." he decided, and then started guiding Berin off to find their shelters for the night.

"Fair evening to you, lord Stark." he greeted a final time before making their way down a long torch-lit aisle between tents to retire.

"So, what do you make of this?" Berin finally asked.

"What do I make of it? It's an exciting thrill for the youngsters, but nothing more than an irritation on my part." he told with a scoff.

"We have seen war before, Raeghun." Berin reminded, bringing the ardent eyes to his.

"This won't be like the last time. Then, our enemy was a small group with a single means. Now, we stand on equal grounds. We will have to be stronger." he said, and Berin nodded realizing the truth of it.

"We'll be al right." he tried to comfort, and the eyes softened.

"I have no doubts. Now go, try to get some sleep. We set out on sunrise." he urged, and Berin left for the tent next to his. Raeghun lingered a moment longer, looking up at the black sky with its many sparkling lights, and the greatest consolation he had in the throes of the chaos they'd come to face, was knowing that his Claira could see the same stars that he was watching right now, and in his heart he kissed his wife and son good night...