Part 1

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

Vitoria wrapped the furs tighter around her as she walked into the great hall, hurrying her steps until she could sit next to Robb, quickly melting into him.

"The children went down alright?" Her husband asked, his breath hot against her hair as he pulled her closer. She simply nodded, trying to warm up. The storm that had delayed their marching was subsiding, but it was still bitingly cold. Especially towards her, who even after almost four years was not fully accustomed to the cold. She saw her brother across from her, bundled up in even more furs and stifled a laugh as she tried to focus on the stories the men were telling. The heirs and younger lords who had come to Winterfell and the few ladies that were also at the castle had all arranged for a small meeting at the hall to remember their faith before the battles to come. If the storm continued to subside, the men would be able to leave tomorrow and start marching South.

"So if Odin lives in Valhalla, is he the only god that lives in a great hall?"

Most of the northerners snickered at her brother's question, the Smalljon letting out a loud laugh.

"No, there are many halls," Dacey Mormont answered. "Thor lives in Thrudheim."

"And Frey was given the hall at Alfheim when he cut his first tooth!" Harrion Karstark chimed in, unbothered by the scowl that appeared on his brother's (Torrhen's) face at his enthusiasm. Despite Robb having fostered at the Karhold, only Harry seemed completely at ease with him. Torrhen and Brenan treated him respectfully, yes, and warmly enough, but there was a distance there. Perhaps it was simply the closeness in age, Harry was only a year younger, whereas Torrhen and Brenan were six and four years older, but she thought there was something more there.

"Nearby is Valhalla, vast and gold-bright. And every day, Odin chooses slain men to join him. They arm themselves and fight in the great courtyard. They kill one another; but every night they rise again and ride back to the hall and feast," her husband started the tale, and with a nod prompted Theon to finish it.

"The roof is made out of shields. The rafters are spears. Coats of mail litter the benches. A wolf stands at the western door and an eagle hovers above it. It has 540 doors, and when Ragnarok comes, 800 warriors will march out of each door, shoulder to shoulder."

"What is Ragnarok?" Only silence remained after her brother asked that question.

"Stay just a bit more," Vitoria whispered, her voice hoarse from the night before as her hand grasped his wrist with uncharacteristic strength for her slim frame. He complies after looking at her, understanding that the decision to march is also taking a toll on her. She's the one who will have to hold the North while he marches South and he knows that sometimes, she still feels like an outsider. Not as much as she had when she first arrived, but every now and then she still felt as if she didn't belong in Winterfell and in the North.

She snuggles closer to him, their bodies fitting together seamlessly, her curves melding into his own crevices as she rests her head on his bare chest.

"It will be alright," he tries to soothe her as he feels her breathing become more erratic against his skin.

"I never did tell you about my family, did I? About it all?" she asks after a few minutes, once she has controlled her breathing and wiped her tears away. "My grandfather was born and raised in Norvos, whereas my grandmother is from Volantis, but they are third cousins I think, maybe fourth. They married for convenience and though it never blossomed into love, they are content with one another. My mother is their only child, from what I understand there were some complications in the birth and because of that my grandmother could not fall with child again. My mother and father met when he visited Norvos as a young man, they supposedly fell in love from the moment they saw one another. I - I never fully bought into that story, how could I when my mother left me as a child?"

She turns to face him, before continuing on and he lets her because he realizes that this is something she needs. Vitoria had told him of her family, but only briefly and here and there. She had never said so much in so little time, even if most of what she had just told him he already knew. "My parents' marriage deteriorated quickly, that much I've known all my life. I don't think they were even truly happy by the time I was born, if I'm honest and that was only a few years after they wed. They sent me to live with my Aunt Elia as soon as I could travel and it wasn't until her death that I went back to Dorne, what does that say about them? I went to Norvos for three moons every year and while I did my best to ignore my mother, my grandmother quickly filled the void of a mother I had been missing."

"Vi, you're rambling," he says, cutting her off and pressing a kiss to her forehead. It's not that he wants her to stop talking, rather that he knows she would not speak of her family if she did not have a point to make. He knew it was a sore topic for her, so whatever she means to tell him must be of importance.

"Sorry," she blushes, "I, I learned things from my grandmother and my Aunt Shara in Starfall that my father saw fit to deepen during the six moons of the year I spent with him. Arianne, even if she is the heir, was never too interested in ruling and with Quentyn was away with the Yronwoods and with Trystane being so much younger, I was his only choice, truly, if he wanted to instruct at least one of us in the politics he so loves."

Vitoria slipped out of his arms and sat up, leaning down on her elbow, her hair cascading down her side as she looked at him. "I know how to rule, you know that Robb. Even if I was only ever meant to marry a dornish lord, my father taught me what I needed to know. You have to be firm when you set off. You are Lord Stark now that your father is in chains. Lords Bolton and Karstark will want to seize power by any means possible, I know Karstark is still bitter you married me and not his daughter, so —"

"And I'm all the gladder for it," he interrupted her, pressing a kiss to her hand. He was fond of Alys, but he did not think he would have been happy married to her.

"Robb, I'm serious. You are Lord Stark now and they'll see you as weak since you've never seen battle. They'll think you a greenboy easy to control and you have to prove them wrong. The important decisions, you'll have to make them yourself. Take their counsel, but remember that at the end, you hold the power and the decisions are yours to be made. They are your father's bannermen and you are acting in his stead as the commander. So you have to command."

To Prince Doran Martell, Lord of Sunspear

I fear war may be upon us soon and I would plead with you to join the dornish forces with my husband's northern ones who will be making their way to the capital by the time this missive reaches the dornish sands. The new King Joffrey Baratheon has placed my goodfather in chains for what was surely a misunderstanding, yet I feel it will not end this way and so I wish for the support of Dorne.

This might be the reckoning we've been waiting for. Perhaps after all these years we might gain the justice owed for the deaths of the Princess Elia and her children.

Princess Vitoria Stark of House Martell

Vitoria turned to her wardrobe and pulled out her heaviest cloak, then sat in her chair to pull on her boots. She took a moment to steel herself before she left, and then she exited her chambers quietly and went into the nursery to find her children were still asleep. Robb must not have wanted to wake them, with it being so early. But she had no such reservations, they deserved to say goodbye to their father, despite the early hours of the morning.

So carefully, she woke up Artos and then moved to the twins, scooping up a blurry eyed Alia into her arms once Leila was up, standing besides her brother, while their wolves both were walking in circles and cocking their heads towards the door. Once her three children were all wrapped in quilts and their coats, she gave in to the wolves' desires and opened the door.

When they reached the entrance hall, Rickon was being led away by Rena. The boy had tears running down his cheeks, and the blonde girl was speaking softly to him. She pulled the hood of her cloak over her head, stepping outside in search of Robb. Dawn found Grey Wind first; the wolf sat dutifully beside his master's horse. Vitoria crouched down carefully and wrapped her arms around him, pressing little kisses to the top of his head and all down his nose, whispering lovingly to the wolf as Leila and Artos attacked his back with hugs. He had grown on her, despite her initial reservations about having a wolf as a pet and he had always been protective of her children, so that served to gain him points in her book.

When she stood, Robb was behind her. She swallowed thickly, then moved with small steps towards him. His hands hung limply at his sides, and she took them, squeezing.

"I don't want you to go," she said softly, voice hardly carrying over the sound of rain that was fast approaching the castle. They would have to leave soon in order to avoid being drenched. Robb pulled her close, taking Alia from her arms and pressing a small kiss to their daughter's temple.

"I know." She couldn't help the choked sob that slipped out. He pulled her close and she buried her face in his chest, wrapping her arms around him tightly while he moved his arms to bring Leila and Artos into the embrace. She felt him press kisses to the crown of her head, and then he pulled back and brought his hands up to cup her face.

"I love thee," he said firmly, looking her square in the eye. "Don't you ever forget that."

He crouched down then, pressing a kiss to Leila's cheek and to Artos's brow, before setting Alia down and ordering them back inside.

"And I love you," she replied once she had seen her children inside the walls of the castle. He kissed her hard, wrapping his arms so tightly around her that she almost couldn't breathe. They pressed their foreheads together when his lips left hers, and she moved his hands to her stomach, laughing slightly when she saw the look on his eyes. Her hands covered his, and she gave him a small, bitter smile as he exhaled.

He then knelt in front of her, making his face level with her stomach. "I know you are a boy. And by the Old Gods and the New, my son," he murmured as she threaded her fingers through his curls, "you have made me a happy man."

"We'll be waiting for you. Just come home soon."

He kissed her lips again, then her forehead, and pulled her against his chest. "I will. I promise."