A/N Thank you to CalliopeGalaxy and Danielle for the beta! Thank you for continuing to read! Please review because writers thrive on feedback!

Chapter 4

The feast was loud and tedious for Deirdre, so many toasts to various victories and promises to win back the north. Lady Stark looked equally miserable. Deirdre had insisted that Catelyn sit near her rather than with her brother so she'd be away from the revelry as much as possible.

"I'm sorry this seems such a joyous occasion when I know your heart is elsewhere," she said to Lady Stark. "How is Lord Tully?"

Catelyn's eyes barely glanced at her before she gazed out over the crowded hall again. Her mind seemed elsewhere as well. "It won't be long, I fear; maybe tonight, maybe a few days."

Deirdre attempted to say something to comfort her good mother but nothing seemed right so she remained silent. After a moment though, she reached out and took Catelyn's hand in her own, squeezing it gently. Lady Stark looked down at their hands for a moment and Deirdre could see her fighting to keep her composure.

"Robb," she said, turning to her husband. "The feast has gone on long enough." When he looked at her curiously, she gestured to his mother with a slight tilt of her head.

Robb nodded and gestured for the steward, Utherydes Wayn, to announce their departure. Robb insisted everyone continue their celebration but asked to speak with his mother, Edmure, and Ser Brynden. Taking her hand, he followed Edmure to Lord Tully's private audience chamber. The others followed them as well as Ned and Robert. Deirdre had stressed to Robb that she didn't need ten guards within the castle and he should make use of her guards to give his own time to rest. Deirdre's guards had not seen battle while all of Robb's had. And Smalljon, his most frequent guard, had just married.

"Where is Grey Wind?" Lady Stark asked as soon as they entered the smaller room. Edmure poured wine for everyone.

"He's in the yard. Something happened at the Crag…I do not wish to speak of it," Robb said and she saw the flicker of pain in his eyes. "He shouldn't be in the castle. He's killed men and has grown wild. Besides he doesn't like some of the Westerlings."

Lady Stark looked even more disturbed by that. "He's part of you Robb. If he doesn't like someone, you must trust his instinct."

"I am not a wolf, despite what they call me. I am not…" his voice trailed off and he removed the crown from his head, staring at it.

The room grew uncomfortably silent. Deirdre reached over and took Robb's hand, before she turned to Catelyn. "Grey Wind just needs time to settle in. I'm sure in a day or so, it will be fine." Catelyn studied her for a long moment before nodding slightly. Deirdre suspected she'd ask for more of an answer later.

Robb needed to forgive himself for what happened with Grey Wind. She couldn't help feel that if Grey Wind picked up on his moods that Robb distancing himself from the direwolf, it might make him more unruly around others, much like an abused dog that sees every movement as a threat.

"I was not allowed news while you were gone. What has happened with the Westerlings that has won them to our cause? And I cannot help but notice that the Freys are absent," Lady Stark asked.

"Lord Brax overheard a conversation between two Freys captives when Deirdre rode off to The Crag. One of them said that now they'd never be able to kill the queen and the other replied that Black Walder most likely would not follow through with his promises anyway and if he wanted to kill her so bad, now was his chance since she was going where he was. Lord Brax sent word to the Greatjon who questioned the men. They agreed to talk as long as they were spared. Apparently, the two men had been told that if they killed Deirdre on the way to Riverrun, the Freys still with our troops would help them escape," Ser Brynden explained. It was the first time Deirdre had heard the details and it sent shivers down her spine.

"If those Freys had killed Deirdre, the Northmen would never have allowed them to leave alive," Lady Stark replied. "Were they foolish enough to believe Black Walder?"

"Who knows for certain? They claimed they'd never planned to follow through with the plan to kill her but they had been approached to do so. If they had actually killed her, since they were members of the Lannister armies, it would merely look like the Lannister men had killed the queen, not the Freys," he answered, shaking his head. "I know that Walder Frey is a desperate man but to plot this way…"

"We cannot assume that Lord Walder had a hand in this treachery. If Black Walder planned this alone then he could easily claim it was his lord's plan. I assume you lost the Freys when you confronted them?" Catelyn asked, looking at Robb.

"He denied it and accused Lord Brax of trying to secure his release, which I fully expected he would do. But Smalljon and I had seen one of his squires near the cells a fortnight ago. We've been trying to find out who ordered him to go there. Then Deirdre told me that he had raped Jeyne Westerling. Black Walder claimed that neither Lord Brax nor the Westerlings, that none of the Lannister loyalists including Deirdre, could be trusted," Robb replied, his hand clenching into a fist. "When Ser Ryman threatened that if I put his son in a cell, his men would fight my men, everything went awry. In the end, I let them both leave rather than risk harm to my men although they all were willing to fight after what happened."

"Then how did Jon Umber come to marry Lady Jeyne? I had thought…"

"Lady Westerling demanded that Robb offer an arrangement for a suitable marriage. Before I could even answer her, Smalljon offered to marry Jeyne," Deirdre said with a smile. "The two of them spent time alone while Robb was injured. Smalljon was captivated by her but he was surprised when she said yes. While he married her to save her honor, there is genuine feeling there. Lady Westerling was not pleased that it wasn't a more advantageous marriage, but Jeyne agreed to it so quickly, obviously feeling the same as Smalljon, her mother barely had much time to object."

The room grew quiet again and the Blackfish brought up some discussions about the war. Deirdre excused herself, knowing she would have little to add to the conversation. She was tired and wished to return to her chambers anyway. She hoped that she could persuade her husband to come to bed earlier tonight so he could rest as well so when he rose to walk her to the door, she whispered in his ear, "Do not leave me in a cold bed too long." When his gaze returned to hers, she gave him a look that promised it would be worth it if he'd come to bed sooner rather than later. He smiled as he nodded and caressed her cheek subtly. She knew Lady Stark disliked open displays of affection so she wasn't surprised when he didn't kiss her.

Ned followed her quietly and when they were alone in one of the hallways, she asked, "You're very subdued of late, Ned. Is there something wrong?"

He seemed hesitant to answer her so she stopped walking and turned to him, expectantly. "The other night has bothered me, Your Grace; what happened with Grey Wind. I'm worried for your safety," he finally admitted.

Deirdre knew that Ned was aware of Robb's concerns about warging so she could understand why he was worried. But she didn't know how to explain how she knew that night that the direwolf wouldn't hurt her. After a moment she said, "Grey Wind is bonded to Robb and I know Robb would never hurt me. But also, I carry his child inside me, his blood. I knew the wolf would sense that. I can't explain how I know but Grey Wind and I are somehow connected through my child."

"You're putting a lot of faith in your suspicions. None of us truly know about wargs or even about direwolves other than stories we are told as children. I don't believe that His Grace would ever do you harm, intentionally, but I am not certain I hold the same belief for Grey Wind. If there comes a time where I am forced to choose between your safety and that of the wolf's, you cannot ask me to spare him," Ned insisted. "His Grace would not want that either."

Deirdre felt a flutter of fear in her stomach and she shook her head. "I do not want you to let him hurt me or my child but you must not kill Grey Wind. Wound him if you must but if you kill him and Robb is…somehow connected, we do not know what that would do to him. If you kill Grey Wind, it could kill your king."

Pain crossed Ned's handsome face and he nodded. "But I would do what I must do. The king charged me with your protection. It would grieve me but I know that if I did not, if per chance Grey Wind killed you or your child, His Grace would never forgive me but more than that, he would never forgive himself. And he would insist that Grey Wind immediately be killed anyway."

Some people came down the hall so the two of them silently walked the rest of the way to her chambers. Deirdre felt conflicted by Ned's words. She knew it was true: if Grey Wind ever hurt her, Robb would never forgive himself. He had not forgiven himself for warging into the direwolf and scaring her. Surely there was someone who knew more about wargs. When she reached their chamber doors, she turned to Ned and asked, "Would you ask Lady Mormont to break her fast with me tomorrow? I wish to ask her some questions about these stories. Perhaps she knows more that we do."

"I do not think His Grace wants this known to his bannermen…"

"Dearest Ned, I am giving birth to a child of the north soon. It only makes sense that I know more about these fables of the north. The tales that Old Nan told the Stark children should be passed down and I do not know if the king will have time to spare to teach me these things. I know nothing of The Long Night other than vague references. I should learn about giants, children of the forest, White Walkers and wights, and wargs as well. Perhaps Lady Mormont could tell me some stories or she knows someone like Old Nan who knows them as well."

Ned shook his head with a smile. "As you command, Your Grace. When the king returns with Robert, I'll go see Lady Mormont."

"I also wish to speak to my uncle. I'll ask Robb about it later tonight but let the Greatjon or Edmure, whoever is in charge of the prisoners, know that I want to see him. I suspect there will be a trading of prisoners soon and I would enjoy speaking with him before he departs."

After he left, Deirdre allowed her handmaiden to take her hair down and brush it while she thought about what Ned had said. She had to find out more about wargs. Robb thought he could will it away and acted like it was something horrible but she wasn't sure if it was. Perhaps it was the fact that Grey Wind had felt Robb's pain when learning his brother's death and seemed to want to protect Robb from it. How could it possibly be bad if the direwolf was protecting him? True, he could become overprotective or hurt someone who wasn't threatening Robb. But she'd seen Summer after he'd protected Bran. She knew he and Shaggydog had protected her as well and she was not even of Stark blood.

Grey Wind never truly threatened a person unless Robb was in danger. Though he had bitten off the Greatjon's fingers those many moons ago in Winterfell, Grey Wind barely acknowledged the man anymore and acted like a playful pup with Smalljon and sometimes Adair, the two both treating him like a large dog instead of a dangerous beast. Dacey often had to brush him off because he would want her food and knew she was the most likely to give in to him, but he never snapped at her fingers no matter how many times she pushed him away. And when he wasn't hunting, he spent his nights beside their cot so Robb could stroke his fur until he fell asleep.

Grey Wind could be a fierce killer, but Lady Stark was right: he was part of Robb and should not be suppressed. Deirdre saw so much of her husband in the wolf, more so than the wolf in her husband. People often referred to any perceived 'wildness' in the Starks as the 'blood of the wolf'. She'd heard many times that Brandon and Lyanna Stark both had the blood of the wolf in them, were prone to bursts of uncontrollable emotions. And there were times when Robb seemed wilder than others, times when he'd make love to her with such passion that it was a little frightening but it was so exciting that she didn't mind. She'd never admit to Robb that Jon had been like that most of the time. It was exhilarating but with Jon it seemed barely contained, like any moment he could lose control. Robb would barely slip out of control before quickly restraining himself. Of the two, Robb had always had more power over his emotions, while Jon would let his overtake him. She wondered if the Wall had taught him some control, and found herself wishing that it hadn't changed him too much.

Jon was a warg. Deirdre knew that without a doubt now that she'd seen more of it with Robb. That was why she dreamed about Jon often, her dreams of him as frequent as those of Ghost. It still bothered her that Jon was in her dreams so much as it felt like a subconscious betrayal of Robb. She never dreamed the wolf dreams of any person but Jon. The others were just senses of Bran, Rickon, or Robb, but only their wolves were in her dreams. Jon was never far away from her. Robb had always said that wolves mate for life and had claimed Jon still would love her. She had never answered him because she didn't know what to say, didn't know how to tell Robb that she could feel when Jon thought of her. As she slept, her heart sought Jon out in turn, even as Robb held her. In her dreams, Robb was always out of her reach, moving further away from her. Tears filled her eyes as she realized that no matter what she did, Robb was somehow leaving her.

x-x-x

Jon watched the fire dance before him. The camp was quiet save for the sound of the wood crackling.

"What's the matter?" Ygritte asked him softly as she sat up beside him.

He shook his head. How could he explain his feelings? She understood about wargs but he couldn't explain all of his dreams. Were they all his? "I had disturbing dreams," he whispered, running a hand through his hair. "Go back to sleep."

"What did you dream?" When he remained silent, she pulled his arm. "Come on, tell me. It might be important, maybe a dream of the future."

"No. It was about my family. About my brothers and…nevermind." Jon turned away. Suddenly he felt he was suffocating. He had to get away from her, leave the camp, but he knew he couldn't.

"You dreamed of her, didn't you?" Her voice didn't sound angry or bitter, just curious.

"They're all in danger," he blurted out. "Soon they will all be separated and in danger. I can't help them or stop it, but am certain that it will happen soon."

Ygritte put her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder. "Maybe you're not meant to interfere. Danger is all around us, every moment. If they're not aware of that, then they're fools."

Jon jerked back to look at her. "My little brothers are mere children. And Deirdre is…she's not innocent but she's gentle and caring..."

"Children need to grow up quickly in the winter. And gentle is next to the same as weak. If you want her to survive the winter, what is coming for us all, then you'd best hope she grows strong. The winter is not a time for gentle, soft women. Look around Jon Snow. Gentleness is a kiss of death."

Glaring at her, Jon said, "You know nothing. Her gentleness comes from strength, not weakness. She's suffered in her life and she could have grown bitter and cold, like the rest of her family. But despite all she's endured, she remains kind. It's easier to feel only anger and hate than it is to love."

Ygritte studied him for a few moments before asking, "Why are you here, Jon Snow? Why aren't you with her?"

He turned away from her, staring into the fire for a long time, feeling the pain of losing her once again. "Because I let others separate us rather than fighting for her. I let her go."

"Why?" Ygritte pressed him, and he turned to look at her, wondering if she pitied him or hated him for telling her the truth. But she seemed genuinely confused.

"Because I was weak, because she deserved better than a bastard son, because I was afraid I'd hurt her, break her. I pushed her away before she could leave me first."

Ygritte laughed bitterly. "You know nothing, Jon Snow. If a woman loves you, she doesn't care if you're a bastard or a high lord. Rather than fight for her, you ran away to the Wall and swore oaths never to touch a woman again. Then you broke those oaths. And still you think of her. Perhaps she did deserve better, your Deirdre, deserved a man who was willing to fight for her. But saying it's because you're a bastard is a lie. It's because you were weak. All you kneelers are too weak to see your own flaws. You blame it on things that don't matter."

"I'm not weak anymore," he muttered, burying his hand in her hair and pulling her to him. "I stole you, didn't I?" He kissed her aggressively and she lay backwards, pulling him so he was on top of her.

"Do you want me to make you forget her, Jon Snow? Or do you want me to become her? Because I can make you forget for a time but I'll never be her," she asked, pulling at his tunic.

"I just know I want you: here, now. Your kisses keep the ghosts at bay, chase the past away. With you, I can forget who I was. I don't have to worry you'll break. I don't have to be my lord father's shame. I can just be a man."

"But you'll always be hers," she whispered. "I see it now. But I'll pass the time with you, Jon Snow, until you realize I'll never fill the emptiness inside you. I'll keep you warm until the passion that burns for her is enough to make you go to her, the day you stop being weak and afraid of what you feel for her. Or until you truly let her go."

Ygritte knew he didn't love her, that he might never love her. The guilt gnawed at him, an ugly, unwelcome pain. But he was just playing a part, wasn't he? He had promised Qhorin Halfhand that he would do whatever it took to convince the wildlings that he was theirs. He'd had to lie with Ygritte or they would have doubted him. She and the others intended to attack his black brothers, the realm he was sworn to protect. So why should he feel guilt for deceiving her, for not loving her? He traced his jaw with his thumb before kissing her again.

Before Ygritte, he lain with no one, whore, servant or otherwise, save the one woman he loved. Ygritte might not care if he loved her. But Jon felt a lesser man because of it.

'Two hearts that beat as one,' Mance had said. No. Jon was only playing a part.

x-x-x

Deirdre woke to a dark room and a soft thud. "Damnit," she heard Robb mutter and she smiled.

"I'm awake. What time is it?"

"It's almost dawn," he said and now that her eyes had adjusted to the darkness she could see his shape as he undressed.

"I thought you were coming to bed sooner. I left lanterns lit for you. I meant to wait up for you but I fell asleep."

"I spent time with Mother then others were requiring my attention. Some of the men insisted I drink with them then Edmure had a few things to go over. I didn't intend to stay away." He sat down on the bed running his hand over her arm. "I wanted to make love to my wife."

"And she was hoping you would."

"Where's Ned?" he asked and she laughed.

"Well he's not in here. I sent him to see Lady Mormont when John came on duty." She sat up and kissed him, pulling him into bed.

"John isn't out there. No one is outside the door which is why I asked," Robb replied and she noted the concern in his voice. "You said you left lanterns lit?" Suddenly he was fumbling around in the dark. He lit the lantern beside the bed and she blinked a few times.

"What's wrong? The candles probably just burnt out."

"Your guard is gone and the room is dark," he said pulling a dagger from his things on the floor. He checked through the room and the bathing chamber before returning. Deirdre watched him in silence. Coming closer, he gestured to the pillow on his side of the bed. "What is that?"

Deirdre turned and found a piece of parchment folded in half there. Picking it up, she noted it wasn't sealed and had her name on it. She opened it with a feeling of dread. The last parchment she'd read was about Rickon and Bran. Reading this one, however, made little sense.

"Forgive me. That's all it says. It's signed by John," she glanced up at him.

Panic swept across his face and he began picking up his clothes, saying, "Get dressed. Quickly."

As she dressed, she asked what it meant and he shook his head. "I don't know but something is wrong. John wouldn't ask for forgiveness if he just left his post. He's asking forgiveness for something that has happened or is going to happen and I don't want you in this room alone while I find out."

Robb pulled her through the hallways to the closest room, pounding on the door. After a few muttered curses and threats, the Greatjon jerked open the door so hard it looked like it would come off its hinges. Instantly he looked stunned and apologetic. "Forgive me Your Grace. I didn't know…"

"Something has happened. Deirdre's guard John is gone. He came into her room and snuffed the candles to leave a note asking her forgiveness."

Lord Umber reached back into the room and came out into the hall with them, fastening on his sword. Deirdre was still unsure of why they were so alarmed. Then she heard Grey Wind howling from the kennels below and her panic level increased. Robb found Ser Brynden who said he'd find the steward to raise the castle. Soon Ned, Robert, Patrick, and Adair were running through the hallway toward them. Dacey almost crashed into them as she and her mother rounded the corner, approaching Robb.

"Your Grace, has something happened?" Ned asked, glancing over both Deirdre and Robb as if looking for injuries.

"You left John on duty outside our bedchambers, correct?"

"Yes, Your Grace. Where…where is he now?" Ned stammered and she could see the guilt in his eyes. He took his role so seriously that any mistakes made by others he took upon himself.

"I don't know. He wasn't there and he left a note for Deirdre, asking her forgiveness." Turning to her other guards, he said, "Tear the castle apart until you find him. Wake Lord Karstark and ask him the meaning of this. Adair and Dacey, you stay with the queen. Take her to the Great Hall. Ned, please rouse my mother and uncle. Escort my mother downstairs. Lady Mormont, come with me. I want all of the lords under my command to meet in the Great Hall."

Robb strode off into another direction with the Greatjon and Lady Mormont. Deirdre walked down the stairs with Adair and Dacey to the Great Hall. The whole castle was awake now. Servants were rushing through the halls to light the lanterns and there were noises outside from the soldier's camps. In the background, she could still hear Grey Wind howling. Part of her wanted to send someone to bring the direwolf inside, but she wasn't sure that was wise. "What could John have meant, Adair? Has he said anything to any of you?"

"No, he hasn't. I don't know what he meant but I suspect it is a reason for concern," Adair said as he opened the heavy wooden doors. The Great Hall had some men in there already. Some wore mail, others had obviously dressed hastily and still looked half-asleep. Servants were pouring hot spiced wine and bringing out bread and butter.

They waited for a long time it seemed to her. She sat on the dais with Dacey and Adair behind her. Lady Stark and Ned soon joined them but no one knew anything yet. The hall continued to fill with men. Robb walked in with Lady Mormont and Edmure looking grim. He came to sit beside her on the dais. "Adair and Ned should take you back to our chambers. I do not wish you to see this."

"No, I want to stay with you, no matter what it is," she replied grasping his arm. Before she could ask him what happened, men came in carrying two bodies on their shoulders. Deirdre's fingers dug into his arm. She could smell the blood in the air and see by the way the bodies hung limply that they were dead men. When the bodies were laid at the foot of the dais, she gasped in shock.

The bodies were two young boys, Lannister squires. Both were distant cousins but she knew Willem Lannister better than the Tion Frey because Willem was the son of Keven Lannister and she'd frequently seen him at Casterly Rock. They were only boys. She stared at the bloody gashes covering Willem's body and the gaping wound in Tion's throat.

"Did they try to escape?" she asked Robb, tears in her eyes, and he shook his head.

She lowered her head, unable to look at the bodies any longer, not wanting anyone to see the tears she tried to prevent from falling. Lady Stark rested her hand on her arm but said nothing. The whole hall was quiet as a tomb and Deirdre wanted to scream. It was too much. These were children, like Bran and Rickon! Her hand drifted to her belly unconsciously. She had prepared herself for the deaths of her family in battle but she hadn't prepared herself for this. Little Tion looked like he'd been sleeping when it happened. She wondered if her tears would make the men consider her disloyal to the Starks.

"Bring them in," Robb commanded and Deirdre's heart dropped into her stomach. She fully expected to look up and see John amongst the men being brought in. It took her a few moments to prepare to face who had done this. When she did raise her gaze, the Greatjon and some of his men were leading in Lord Karstark and four of his own.

/"Five," said Robb when the prisoners stood before him, wet and silent. "Is that all of them?"

"There were eight," rumbled the Greatjon. "We killed two taking them, and a third is dying now."

Robb studied the faces of the captives. "It required eight of you to kill two unarmed squires."

Edmure Tully spoke up. "They murdered two of my men as well, to get into the tower. Delp and Elwood."

"It was no murder, ser," said Lord Rickard Karstark, no more discomfited by the ropes about his wrists than by the blood that trickled down his face. "Any man who steps between a father and his vengeance asks for death."

"I saw your son die that night in the Whispering Wood," Robb told Lord Karstark. "Tion Frey did not kill Eddard. Willem Lannister did not slay Torrhen. How then can you call this vengeance? This was folly, and bloody murder. Your sons died honorably."

"They died," said Rickard Karstark, yielding no inch of ground. "The Kingslayer cut them down. These two were of his ilk. Only blood can pay for blood."

"The blood of children?" Robb pointed at the corpses. "How old were they? Twelve, thirteen? Squires."

"Squires die in every battle."

"Die fighting, yes. Tion Frey and Willem Lannister gave up their swords in the Whispering Wood. They were captives, locked in a cell, asleep, unarmed... boys. Look at them!"

Lord Karstark looked instead at Catelyn. "Tell your mother to look at them," he said. "She slew them, as much as I." \\

Deirdre glanced at Catelyn and saw the guilt on her face. Lord Karstark's words had wounded her. Deirdre wished she could stop this because she knew it was only going to get worse.

/"My mother had naught to do with this," Robb said angrily. "This was your work. Your murder. Your treason."

"How can it be treason to kill Lannisters, when it is not treason to free them?" asked Karstark harshly. "Has Your Grace forgotten that we are at war with Casterly Rock?" With that he looked at Deirdre for a long time and she saw that once again, to him, she was just a Lannister. He hated her as much as these two boys, as much as he hated Jaime. Nothing she had done, no loyalty she had shown could erase the fact that she was a lion. Lord Karstark returned his gaze to Robb and continued, "In war you kill your enemies. Didn't your father teach you that, boy?"

"Boy?" The Greatjon dealt Rickard Karstark a buffet with a mailed fist that sent the other lord to his knees.

"Leave him!" Robb's voice rang with command. Umber stepped back away from the captive.

Lord Karstark spit out a broken tooth. "Yes, Lord Umber, leave me to the king. He means to give me a scolding before he forgives me. That's how he deals with treason, our King in the North." He smiled a wet red smile. "or should I call you the King Who Lost the North, Your Grace?"

The Greatjon snatched a spear from the man beside him and jerked it to his shoulder. "Let me spit him, sire. Let me open his belly so we can see the color of his guts."\\

Deirdre rose quickly. When Robb stood beside her, putting his hand on her to stay her, she shook her head, whispering, "I cannot..." She swallowed deeply. "I know what you must do. I will stand by you, as I always have, when you carry out justice. But I want no part of the discussion of what that justice will be. No matter what is said or who says it, everything will be laid at my feet and you will be accused of listening to a Lannister in determining Lord Karstark's fate. This must be decided while I am not here or it will come back to haunt us. I will wait for you in our chambers. Send someone for me if you…" her voice trailed off for a moment then her eyes sought his. "I will be by your side then."

Robb nodded, his face grim. "I will send Dacey for you. Stay with Adair and Ned at all times." He turned to the two men. "See that one of you checks our chambers before she is left alone."

"Yes, Your Grace."

Deirdre glanced once more at Willem and Tion, her heart tightening. She felt Lord Karstark's look of pure hatred towards her. She met his eyes boldly and held his glare for a few moments. Ned put his hand on the back of her arm and she let him lead her away from the hall. The men separated as she walked through, bowing their heads. She didn't feel any change in feelings from them which was heartening. But she mourned that Lord Karstark's grief had led to this. As soon as she stepped out of the Great Hall, she sobbed and rushed up the stairs to their chambers. Ned and Adair followed her but did not say a word.

Second A/N: The two sections in between the / and \\ are quoted from A Storm of Swords, Catelyn Chapter 20. They were just such good dialog, I couldn't rewrite it and come close!