This chapter was hard to write, to say the least. I'm now realizing how few scenes there were in Winterfell, during Season 2. But…on the bright side, I have written some scenes for future chapters, so maybe the next one will come more quickly.

I am so so sorry for the delay in getting this up. My muse has been going not only to the other ASOIAF story I mentioned in the last note, but also to a White Queen story. I will get to work on the next chapter as soon as possible to get it up quickly.

Part 1

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

Blood. There was so much blood.

Lexa could only watch in horror as Vitoria twisted in pain on the bed before her. Vitoria had done her duty as was expected of her by the rest of the Seven Kingdoms. She'd been declared with child not two moons after marrying Robb Stark and had given birth, to two beautiful little girls. The maester had declared her healthy and that it was safe for her to conceive and three moons after giving birth, Vitoria had been declared with child again, yet it was not meant to be. Before she had even had a chance to rise her child pains began, and her ladies had been in a panic since. Moments like these were times when Lexa wished Ellaria had not returned to Sunspear after the twins' birth. Lexa had expected to be at Starfall, visiting her uncle and cousin when Vitoria had her next child. Vitoria hadn't been lucky. Her leave of court had still been two or three months away, but apparently the Gods had another plan.

"Rena, please fetch me another wet cloth. Hurry!" Lexa passed a blood soaked cloth to Luna as Rena passed her a fresh one.

Arianne held Vitoria's hands, whispering encouragement. Her friend's shrill shrieks deafened Lexa to point where she found it hard to focus, causing her to rely more on Rena, the daughter of a midwife from the Eyrie.

"I can take care of the princess, if I may," Rena murmured.

Lexa gratefully nodded, and Rena took her place beside Vitoria. With another shriek from Vitoria, the babe was in Rena's hands, silent and male. Lexa put her hand over her mouth to hold in a scream of horror. Vitoria lay back, silent from pain. The room itself seemed to hold it's breath as Rena used a dry cloth to rub the body in an effort to revive the child. Lexa took the cloth from her and began rubbing the tiny babe's body herself.

Rena shook her head. "It is no use," She whispered.. "he was born too early."

A cracked voice spoke. "Lexa, let me see my child."

Lexa sighed as she wrapped the child and picked him up in her arms. Vitoria sat up, with some assistance from Arianne and looked over the underdeveloped babe in Lexa's arms.

Her dark eyes stared blankly at her child, and then at Lexa. "It was a boy? Wasn't it?"

"Aye, it was a boy, my lady." Lexa nodded.

Vitoria spoke in Rhoynish so that only Lexa and Arianne would understand. "He is going to kill me. I lost a son. He is going to murder me."

Her voice cracked, and she broke out into a sob. Lexa could only watch helplessly as she cradled the babe in her arms. Having only spent five moons in his mother's womb, the babe was painfully small with some of its body not fully developed.

Lexa saw Arianne turn to her trusted second in command. "Rena, stay here and comfort Vitoria, the rest of the ladies and I will take care of everything else, understand?"

"Yes, my lady," Rena curtsied and then hurried to Vitoria's side.

Lexa stood and watched at Rena put her arms around Vitoria, whispering gently to her before turning to the rest.

"The rest of you, follow me." Arianne led the ladies to the door and nodded to Lexa to open it for her. Lexa could only walk a few more paces with the dead child before she saw the worst person to appear walking down the corridor: Theon Greyjoy and Robb Stark.

"Of all the moments he could have chosen to come," Luna whispered.

Lexa turned back to nod at the young niece of Lady Stark. She led the curtsy as Robb grew closer.

"My lord," they chorused and rose to stand.

Robb's face was dark as he drew closer to Lexa. "I was informed that my wife gave birth to a child this morning."

"She did, my lord," Lexa nodded.

"How is she?" His blue eyes held fear in them.

Lexa sighed. "She is well, distraught but well."

Lexa tried to walk around him, but he blocked her path. "Was the child a son or a daughter?"

Lexa gulped as she showed Robb the babe. "It was a son. I suggest that you leave your wife alone for a while, she is not in the best spirit to see."

"I must make sure she is alright, she is my wife." He protested.

"My lord, she is quite depressed. I know you wish to see her, but you must allow her to grieve alone." Arianne chirped before Lexa could respond again.

"Princess Arianne is correct, Vitoria is not quite herself at the moment." She added.

"I do not care about that, I should be there to comfort her. It is my duty as a husband." Robb took a step towards the chamber door.

"My lord, please. You will send her into a frenzy." Lexa was now blocking the king.

Robb frowned. "Lexa, you will allow me to see my wife or I shall order you too,"

Arianne nodded to Lexa and she relented.

"Yes, my lord." Lexa stepped aside and allowed for Robb to enter the room.

Luna glanced at Arianne and Lexa with fear. "Are you sure that the princess will not-"

Her statement went unfinished due to screams of terror that could heard from the queen's bedchamber. Arianne placed the dead child in Luna's arms, grabbed Lexa's arm, and ran into Vitoria's chamber.

"Take the child to be buried!" Lexa called to Luna over her shoulder and burst through the door.

Rena was still sitting on the bed, her head turned away from the entrance, instead facing the princess. Vitoria was standing in the corner, screaming as Robb tried to approach her. "I am so sorry, please, please leave me!"

"My love, what causes you to react this way?" He took another step forward.

Vitoria sunk to her knees. "Do not kill me. I do not know why the gods took the son from my womb. Please…"

She began to sob violently and Arianne looked back at Lexa who only shook her head, appearing shocked by the entire scene.

Robb looked confused. "I am not going to kill you. I only wanted to comfort you, my dear."

"No," Vitoria shook head. "you are going to kill me for losing a son!"

Robb got down on his knees and looked Vitoria in her eyes. "I do not care that you lost a child. I am only thankful that you are still alive."

Rena turned around and smiled at Lexa, clearly enchanted by Robb's care for his wife.

Arianne motioned for her to join her and Lexa near the chamber door. "Go find Luna and make sure the child has been buried."

They curtsied. "Yes, my lady,"

Arianne could hear the door close behind her as the ladies followed her orders. She was watching as Robb helped a whimpering Vitoria to her feet.

He cupped her face with his hand."I love thee. I adore thee. What would give you the slightest inclination that I would commit such a terrible act against you, my love?"

"I fear," Vitoria began.

"Do not fear," Robb interjected. "I told you not to fear anything while I am alive. You have nothing to fear, for you have my love."

Theon had hated the Starks at first. He hated that his older brothers were dead and hated that he had to leave his home to be in the North. He could still remember his mother crying out for him as he sailed away on a Northern ship.

He had hated the North, but he had hated the Starks most of all.

He wasn't part of them, no matter how much Lord Stark tried to make him feel as though the North had always been his home. He would admit that over time, he did feel as though it was his home. But he had still resented the Starks wishing he were one of them, instead of their ward. He wanted to be a Stark and not their glorified hostage.

It wasn't Lord Stark who made him feel like one of them though. No, that had been Arya and Vitoria.

It had been his seventeenth nameday.

It was a small affair, he wasn't a Stark so he didn't get a big feast like the others. He had gotten one that past year when he turned sixteen, but he didn't make a great deal out of his nameday anyway.

His seventeenth nameday came and he expected the usual small trinkets from the Stark children and perhaps some new shirt from Lady Stark and a practice sword from Lord Stark. He hadn't expected Arya's gift.

She had given him a sloppily sewed handkerchief with a grey direwolf on it. It was well made, considering she had been eight at the time and despised needlework. He had liked it, although he told her sweetly that a kraken would have been better.

"Why?" she had asked him.

Theon had tried explaining to her that he wasn't a Stark, but a Greyjoy, so his sigil was a kraken, not a direwolf.

"But you're my brother," she had said in exasperation.

"I'm not, though," he told her.

This had apparently been the wrong thing to say as Arya had begun to cry and ran to her brother's room about Theon lying and being mean by telling her that he wasn't her brother. Robb had tried to explain that Theon's parents were in Pyke, although it was difficult for him to explain why Theon was there.

Arya had just kicked and screamed, which was usual for her, and demanded that Theon was her brother and that he was a Stark just like the rest of them. Her reasoning was that Vitoria had lived in Dorne her whole life, but she was a Stark. Hearing that, Vitoria had taken the girl into her arms and sent Robb away, telling him she'd handle it and not to tell his parents.

One of the twins started crying while Vitoria calmed Arya's tears and by the time Vitoria had managed to disentangle Arya from her body, Theon had already taken the babe into his arms and calmed her down. He set her down next to her sister in their crib and looked up to see Vitoria smiling at him, while she brushed Arya's hair, the girl having fallen asleep due to her tears.

Vitoria had simply told him he could go and that she would see that Arya returned to her rooms when she woke. That night, Lord Stark had pulled him aside, apologizing for Arya. But that's when Theon admitted it.

He did want to be a Stark. He could hardly remember the Greyjoys save for his mother's crying, but that was it. The word home brought images of Winterfell and the word family brought images of the Starks.

He wanted to be a Stark and he was, in every way but blood.

They received a letter from Joffrey Baratheon. The letter was addressed to Bran, Rickon and her children and Vitoria never felt so much rage towards a person she barely knew. However, such anger could never be abated considering what the man had done to their family.

Lord Stark,

"Prince Brandon," Vitoria corrected, ruffling Rickon's hair.

By order of your king, you are to bend the knee to me and I shall grant you the title of Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. Your brother is in open rebellion against the crown, but I shall not hold that against you, should you make the right choice.

Your king,

Joffrey Baratheon, First of his Name

Fury filled her as the words registered in her mind. He was offering the title to Bran or Rickon, bypassing her children despite the laws of succession he held to being clear.

"He's truly mad," Maester Luwin said, shaking his head.

"He's foolish to think that a wolf would betray one of its own," she said, shaking her head, her hand falling protectively over her stomach, despite her words. "Our bonds are greater than most. You children are Stark and Tully both. Mine own are wolf and sun. We are united through the cold of winter and the heat of the desert. A lion has nothing but it's pride. I doubt he could possibly understand such things."

"What shall you say in your reply, Bran?" Lexa asked.

"Write to him and say that we know no king, but the King in the North whose name is Stark," Rickon announced, making her glow with pride even as she saw Bran's face darken.

"Oh," Alia exclaimed. "And we all sign it as princesses and princes!"

Robb looked over and saw the healer woman from a few days earlier readying a cart with a wounded soldier. She looked exhausted. She had been so full of resolve earlier, but she looked exhausted now, as though the events of the day had finally caught up to her.

"What's your name?" Robb asked as he approached her.

"Talisa," she replied. It was a pretty name.

"Your house name?"

"You wish to know what side my family fights on?" She asked.

"You know my family name," he replied. "I find you are at an advantage over me."

"That boy lost his foot on your orders," she said, changing the subject.

"They killed my father and holds my cousin and sisters hostage," he replied, trying not to let his thoughts wander off to how they were doing. Sansa would be pliable, she had always been a lady, but she would be scared. Luna would do what she needed to survive, his cousin had instincts not found in many women and that was the reason Vitoria had taken her on as a companion. Arya worried him, she would not know which lines to cross and that could very well mean she would lose her life as well.

"That boy did?"

"The family he fights for."

"Do you think he's friends with King Joffrey?" She reasoned. "He's a fisherman's son that grew up near Lannisport. He probably never held a spear before they shoved one in his hands a few months ago."

"I have no hatred for the lad."

"That should help his foot grow back," Talisa scoffed. She began to walk away in frustration, carrying away a pail.

"Perhaps you could see it back on. He might have lost it because of me, but you were the one to make the final cut."

"It was unnecessary," she continued.

"You'd have us surrender, end all this bloodshed. I understand. The country would be at peace and life would be just under the righteous hand of good King Joffrey."

"You're going to kill Joffrey?"

"He's not the rightful king and he murdered my father and seeks to force my sister to marry him. I will take his head if the gods give me strength."

"And then what?"

"I go back home. I go back to Winterfell and try to be the man my father wanted me to be. I have no desire to sit on the Iron Throne."

"So who will?"

"Daenerys Targaeryen or one of the many bastards of King Robert if his brothers do not survive the war." He and Vitoria had briefly discussed this before he left. She had insisted on restoring the dragons to the throne, while he thought Stannis should be the king, which she countered saying would end in disaster considering his sense of honor and duty were well known and they would not serve him well in a place such as King's Landing. He had left before they would resolve the matter.

"And where is the dragon princess?"

"I don't know."

"You're fighting to overthrow a king and yet you have no plan for after?"

"First we have to win the war."

Still obviously frustrated at him, Talisa climbed into the horse drawn cart and signaled for the driver to start off.

"You never told me where you're from," he said.

"Volantis," she replied quickly, perhaps too quickly. If he remembered correctly, most in Volantis had Valyrian features. Talisa, with her olive skin and dark hair and eyes did not fit that criteria.

"You're far from home, then," he said. "The boy was lucky you were here."

She gave him a small smile. His heart stuttered in his chest at the sight. "He was unlucky that you were."

Their eyes never left each other as the cart took her further away.