I am not completely happy with this chapter, but I've been thinking of how to change it and it doesn't come out like I would want it to, and I really felt like I had to post it.

I also wanted to apologize if you feel Robb has been OOC. He has been, but that was necessary for this part of the story. There are some things of his character that will be righted, but others will not. However in the next few chapters he will redeem himself. Part of the reason he will not go back to being who he is in canon is Vitoria and what she has changed in their years of marriage.

Continue reviewing with questions! And, please also tell me if you would like for me to answer your reviews as I did when I first posted the story.

Part 1

she wore ice on her skin as diamonds while the heat in her veins kept her from freezing

Robb pulled away from Vitoria, bending down to kiss her lips before leaving the bed, "We should go make sure Bran is okay."

She nodded. The poor boy had woken up after Catelyn left and been desolate when he learned he would not walk again. He wished for his death. She understood why he felt that way, but still it broke her heart to hear him say so. "I'll go. I'll get Rickon and the girls on the way, maybe they can cheer him up."

The door to their room sounded as someone knocked.

"Come in."

Rena came inside, a small platter with herbs and parchment in her hands with a sheepish smile on her face.

Robb watched in amusement as Vitoria's shoulders slumped, her mouth twisting into a grimace. "Leave it on the table, Rena, thank you. I'll be right out so you can help Vitoria dress."

"M'lord," Rena curtsied before leaving, not seeing Vitoria's frown.

Robb turned back to his wife, seeing the annoyed expression on her face due to the platter. At least now she would not need to drink moon tea, if the herbs she had requested of her cousins had finally arrived. He had not wanted her to drink the tea, the North took kinslaying as one of the greatest sins and crimes, yet moon tea had no clear definition. If there was no babe, it truly wasn't killing anyone, but still it was removing his seed from her womb to stop it from taking root and forming a child. In his eyes, the herbs were a much better alternative when they supposedly worked by stopping his seed from taking root instead of flushing it out.

He knew it was something necessary if they were going to continue being intimate before the maesters gave them the go-ahead to have another child. He had seen her after birthing Artos and considering how weak she'd been, he wasn't surprised she needed more time to recover than with the twins or Torrhen. But he also knew it frustrated her that after more than a year since birthing Artos, she still had not recovered enough to even risk a pregnancy. "Just a few more months."

"Hopefully," she shook her head as she rose from the bed.

Robb went to speak before the door opened, Vitoria scrambling to cover her naked body with their bed sheets. It was Theon that stood there, breathless. "Robb! The Imp is here!"

Tyrion Lannister seemed to be standing trial in front of Bran when Vitoria arrived at the hall, slipping inside and staying by the door, wanting to see how this all would develop. She'd hastily dressed and even as she entered, she was still one-handedly plaiting her hair in a simple style she'd learned in Norvos while her other hand struggled to twist the sash at her waist.

The Imp was looking up at Bran, who was in Hodor's arms. "Would your companion be so kind as to kneel? My neck is beginning to hurt."

Bran nodded, turning his head towards the taller man. "Kneel, Hodor."

The Lannister stepped closer, holding something behind his back that Vitoria couldn't make out due to her view being blocked as she made her way towards the front.

"Do you like to ride, Bran?"

Bran's eyes widened before he nodded. "Yes…well, I liked to."

"Lord Brandon has lost the use of his legs," Quentyn explained from his spot by Robb at the front of the room. Mentally, Vitoria made a note to ask her brother how he got there so quickly when last she remembered he liked to sleep until late even by dornish standards, where the days were longer and had more sun.

Tyrion seemed to snort, "What of it? With the right saddle, even a cripple can ride."

"I'm not a cripple!" Bran huffed.

"Then I'm not a dwarf. My father will rejoice to hear it." Tyrion's quick wit retorted, before taking something out of his pouch. "I have a gift for you. Take it to your saddler. Start with a yearling and teach it to respond to the reins and the boy's voice."

"Will I really be able to ride?" Bran's eyes widened.

"You will," Tyrion's voice softened. "On horseback, you'll be as tall as any other man."

Robb stood from the old weirwood chair reserved in the hall for the Lord of Winterfell. "Is this some kind of trick? Why do you want to help him?"

Mentally, Vitoria slapped Robb. He really needed to learn the time and place for such things. Her husband had learned, but he was still too blunt for the politics of the South.

"I have a tender spot in my heart for cripples, bastards and broken things."

The door to the hall opened once again and this time with no subtlety, like it had opened for Vitoria just a few minutes earlier. The twins burst in, breathless and pale with the direwolves. Her daughters stopped at the door, unsure but the wolves had no such qualms. Their eyes found the dwarf and Summer began to growl as Grey Wind padded towards him.

The Lannister took a step back in fear, but Summer came from behind him, snarling. He recoiled, yet Dawn came at him, tearing at his sleeve.

"No!" Bran shouted, as the men escorting Tyrion Lannister reached for steel. "Summer, to me!"

The direwolf seemed disappointed at his order, but complied nevertheless, growling once more at the dwarf before walking over to Bran and lying down beside him.

"Grey Wind!" Robb called and his wolf immediately went to his side, nuzzling up his leg as her husband allowed his fingers to sink into his fur.

"Dawn!" the twins chorused and though Dawn gave the man one more snarl, she went to her daughters.

"You've done my goodbrother a kindness. The hospitality of Winterfell is yours, Lord Tyrion," Vitoria cut in, to defuse the tension, before her husband could make another faux pas she would be forced to clean up.

"Spare me your false courtesies, your highness. There's a brothel right outside in Wintertown. I'll find a bed there and we call sleep easier."

"Lexa," Vitoria called as she went to close the door, "what did I do wrong?"

She immediately paused, and while she did close the door, she turned around and hurried back, wrapping her arms around her princess and pulling her closer.

"I had my doubts about him loving me," Vitoria choked out, tears running down her face. "But even so, since the beginning we've fit when we're in the bedroom. Now I don't know where I stand. He blows hot, he blows cold. One day he's as devoted as he was in the weeks surrounding Artos's birth, others I think he can barely stand to look at me."

"Shh, shh," she soothed, threading her fingers around her hair, "you've done nothing wrong. Robb's just an idiot."

"But I have," Vitoria continued crying, "I did not tell him when Vaith said I was recovered enough. I continued taking moon tea and now the leaves Arianne and Tyene sent me -"

"And you can do what you want with your body," Lexa cut her off firmly. "Never mind that it's his seed. You felt the change in the wind as I did and you decided to protect yourself."

"I-I went about it wrong-" hot tears fell on her shoulder, seeping through the samite of her dress, but she simply wrapped her arms tighter around Vitoria, allowing her to cry.

In her mind, she cursed Robb Stark for reducing her oldest friend to this crying mess. Stark men had to stop breaking the hearts of dornish women. Her mother had warned Vitoria before they left Starfall one last time, but it was as though the warning had not been given. Vitoria had allowed herself to fall for her northern husband now she was paying for it.

She'd see if she managed to talk to Quentyn on the morrow. The gods knew they had no love lost for one another, but Robb was more likely to listen to his goodbrother than to her. And things could not continue this way.

Vitoria and Theon were practicing in the main courtyard while Bran was going over a map of Westeros with Maester Luwin. Theon was shooting bullseye after bullseye, but Vitoria was clearly struggling which made Bran become distracted from his studies.

"Bran," Maester Luwin spoke up in a warning tone, trying to get Bran to pay attention.

He pointed to a spot on the map with a wooden pointer, causing him to look down at it.

"The Iron Islands. Sigil: a Kraken. Words: We do not sow."

"Lords?"

"The Greyjoys," Bran stated and Theon immediately stopped shooting arrows to speak up.

"Famed for their skills at archery, navigation, and lovemaking," Theon explained proudly, laughing loudly.

"I could've sworn they were famous for their failed rebellions," Vitoria remarked cheekily, her arrow finally hitting near the center.

Rickon hurried down the steps as he followed Vitoria down the halls, he was careful not to step on the back of her yellow and white dress while they walked; he barely let his good-sister out of his sight now that his mother was gone. His mother had not told him much about why she had left, she had only said that she would soon be back and kissed his forehead.

"Where are we going?" Leila asked curiously, they didn't like that everyone seemed to be leaving and no one told them why.

The four young children all wanted everyone to come home again so that things could return to normal. Rickon didn't like that both his parents were gone, but at least Robb and Vitoria were still there, even if he was sometimes jealous that the twins had their parents while his own were away. Leila wanted her papa to be able to spend more time with her; ever since Nonno Ned left he had been more busy; Alia wanted Sansa and Arya to come back so she could be Sansa's doll again and so Arya could teach her where all the passages in the castle were.

"We are going to see what happened to Bran," Vitoria replied gently.

Rickon simply nodded. He had also heard the yells and shouts when Robb and Theon had returned with Bran.

Tio Oberyn,

How do things fare in our lands? How are yours and Ellaria's little girls? I do so wish I could be there to hold them and watch them grow. Mine own children bring me so much joy. I often wonder how I created such perfect little beings.

I fear for my goodfather in King's Landing. That city already took so much from us, I would not wish for my husband to lose a parent there as well. What do our spies tell you? What cracks has the lioness shown since the death of the old Hand? Is the fat stag still whoring his way into an early, drunken grave or has his old friend managed to straighten him out?

Things in the North are dire, I must tell you with a heavy heart. Wildlings are passing through cracks in the Wall and the air is becoming colder. I think that soon I shall have to send Alia to the Water Gardens, I do not think that she will survive winter in the North. It will pain me to send her away, but that may be the only way for her to survive. Her health never completely recovered from when she was a bebe, and my heart swells with both pride and worry for her everyday.

I do believe, however, that my goodfather being in the capital may allow us to avenge those we lost to the lions and stags in the rebellion.

Your brother's figlia,

Princess Vitoria Stark of House Martell

"I shall stay with my brothers tonight," her husband said gruffly as he grabbed a blanket from the ledge above their fireplace, heading for the door.

"No surprise there," she snorted, wrapping the furs tighter around Leila as she shifted Artos on her hip.

"What," Robb turned to face her, his eyes cold, "is that supposed to mean?"

"You're rarely here Robb!" She hissed, trying not to alert her children that something was ill between their parents. "It's always this or that. Since your father left you've barely been a husband to me, except when it's in your convenience or when you want to fuck me. My patience is running thin as it is."

"And how am I expected to act as your husband when our whole marriage has been a sham? When our marriage was a way for your family to avenge their death?"

Vitoria had nothing to say to that, even if he had the wrong idea. So she kept quiet, pulling their son closer to her while her amber eyes were fixed on her husband's blue. She would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her break, no matter if he would think he had won this round by her silence. Despite what he seemed to believe, she had not been feigning her love for him. That was not how she had been raised. In any case, he had been the first one to declare his love and she had been quiet on the topic until she knew for sure she loved him. She would not play with his feelings in such a way; not when her own had already been played with for all her life. So she kept quiet, staring defiantly into his blue orbs.

When Alia started fidgeting in her bed and she leaned down to fix the furs, her husband left their room, leaving her with a cold feeling on her chest.