Chapter 7

It didn't take long for Deirdre to tire of their journey. It had been raining since their departure from Riverrun and though she and Jeyne had kept each other's spirits up for the first few days, they'd both started to feel the gloom of outside seep into their wayn. Deirdre felt horrible that Robb and his men had to march in this rain while she kept dry. By nightfall, her husband was drenched all the way to his small clothes. And the weather did nothing good for anyone's moods.

Added to that, apparently Lady Stark had offended her brother and was now being given a wide berth by Lord Edmure and his companions. Furthermore, she had, once again, beseeched Robb to change his will and to reconsider allowing her to stay with Deirdre and their child. On the latter, Deirdre had spoken up on Catelyn's behalf. She could use a mother figure with experience to help her with their child, as Deirdre had little knowledge of babies. Robb had finally agreed that his mother could remain with them until he departed Greywater Watch to meet with his men; Deirdre was certain she could convince him to allow Catelyn to stay longer if she needed her.

Catelyn had travelled with Deirdre and Jeyne for a few days after her argument with Edmure, hoping to lift her spirits. She spoke little, spending her days stitching tiny direwolves on a baby blanket. She had made three so far. One for a daughter and two suitable for sons, in case Robb was right about twins. The only subject Deirdre was able to get her good-mother to talk about with certainty was caring for children.

Deirdre would smile at her stories of Robb's birth at Riverrun. She had labored with him for a day and a half. Sansa had been an easy birth and Catelyn had tears in her eyes when she talked of how Lord Stark had fawned over his daughter. The bells had rung from morning until night on the day Sansa was born. Rumors of her flawless skin and fiery hair had spread amongst the castle folk. Robb had walked around like a proud brother and begged his mother to let him hold her just once, with help. His fascination had continued until the next week, when Lord Stark had given him some extra time to make him forget his jealousy over the attention paid to his new sister. The bells had rung for Arya, Bran and Rickon as well.

"There will be no bells rung in Winterfell for your child and, if there were, only ghosts would hear them," Catelyn said darkly, gazing out into the gloomy day.

Jeyne's eyes filled with tears as she focused hard on her stitches. Deirdre was speechless. How could she truly regret not having bells rung for her child if she'd never known about them before? But now she did. She felt self-centered but she grew angry that her child would not be celebrated as he or she should be. Robb's people would be scattered all over the place by then and it would only be Catelyn, Robb, and the Reeds with her, and she didn't even know the Reeds. Her family would hear the news of her child and think of ways to use a Stark heir to their advantage. Robb's father, sisters and brothers, the ones who would have celebrated if they had been there, were gone. It was unfair that her child would be brought into the world with very little fanfare despite the fact he would be a special child, a prince even.

As long as Robb is there, I need no other celebrations, she finally convinced herself. When Winterfell was rebuilt, they'd celebrate her son's name days there, and the people could celebrate their prince's life, once there was peace in the north at last.

"I don't need bells as long as I have Robb with me," she said aloud to Lady Stark. "And you'll be there with us as well."

"Of course, you're right," Lady Stark said, taken from her gloom, long enough to smile and reach over to touch Deirdre's belly.

"He's quiet today. I'm sure he'll wake up as soon as I attempt to sleep," Deirdre mused.

"Then perhaps you should take a nap while you can," Catelyn suggested.

Deirdre nodded, resting her head against the side of the wayn, trying to push all other thoughts out of her mind, but she'd only grown more worried and tense since leaving Riverrun. The thought of the Freys made her sick to her stomach. The idea that Black Walder would be at the wedding terrified Jeyne and Deirdre worried that Robb or the Greatjon would kill him if Smalljon didn't. But they all had to remain calm. They were at the mercy of the Freys now and that was an uneasy feeling, knowing how Walder Frey enjoyed making them squirm. Lame Lothar had taken a strange interest in her while at Riverrun, seeking her out whenever she wasn't with Robb, asking her questions about her family and about the baby. Deirdre answered as briefly as she could and when it grew too uncomfortable, she'd excuse herself. He'd even made a strange remark about her closeness to Jaime, which struck her as odd since Lothar had not been in camp with them nor had she admitted any lingering affection for Jaime.

When she'd mentioned it to Robb, he hadn't been pleased and had insisted that she remain away from Lothar aside from when Robb was present. Still, she had found herself cornered by him one day, unable to brush him off. Lothar had mentioned the name Mina, and Deirdre had stared at him coldly, asking how he knew her mother's name.

"I don't recall exactly. It must have been Olyvar, or perhaps Lady Westerling mentioned it to me. She said she knew you when you were a child," Lothar had said smoothly.

"Why are you interested in my family and my mother?" she'd asked flat out.

He'd offered her an easy smile and replied, "You are my queen. Of course I am fascinated by your history, Your Grace."

After that, she'd made certain that she was never alone with Lothar Frey, even if it meant appearing rude. Why he cared so much about her Lannister relations was a matter of concern for her and it made Robb uneasy too. And now, once Jeyne departed with Lord Mallister, Lady Mormont, and Lord Glover, Deirdre would have to remain hidden so that Lame Lothar and Walder Rivers thought she had gone to Seagard as well. She worried that this plan was doomed to fail, but Robb had assured her that his guards knew to keep the Freys far enough away from her wayn that she'd never be seen.

x-x-x

Deidre had been sick as soon as they'd reached the Twins, which left a foul odor in the wayn and prevented her from eating anything the rest of the day. Catelyn had to leave her to greet the Freys, leaving Deirdre alone with Dacey. Deirdre heard, after the fact, that not only had there been some conflict between Grey Wind and one of the Freys, but the direwolf had balked at crossing the bridge. The news had left her cold. This is no place for wolves.

"I'm sure it's nothing," Dacey had commented, though Deirdre had observed how her brows had furrowed. "By this time tomorrow, we'll be heading north, Your Grace. Tonight, the only one who needs to worry is Edmure Tully. Let us pray to the gods that his new bride is nothing like her father."

Deirdre felt sympathy for Edmure and wondered if Frey was giving him the same daughter he'd intended Robb to marry. For Edmure's sake, Deirdre hoped she was as kind as her brother was. Olyvar had been a good squire to Robb and was very kind to Deirdre as well.

As they crossed the bridge, she reached out and took Dacey's hand. "It will be fine," Dacey assured her, but Deirdre's uneasiness persisted. Perhaps it was because she knew that Robb was worried enough about her to hide her presence. She couldn't help feeling that if he was hiding her from Walder Frey that Robb had ample reason to fear for his own safety as well.

"What if Walder Frey takes Robb hostage and sells him out to the Lannisters?" she whispered. "What if we cross the bridge and are immediately attacked by their forces?"

"There is nothing on the other side of this bridge except a view of the north side of the Twins," Dacey insisted. "Lord Frey could never hold His Grace here. His men would tear down the Twins stone by stone before they let that happen. Besides, I'll be guarding him at the wedding and so will Smalljon, Patrek Mallister, and Wendel Manderly. Nothing will happen to King Robb. You'll be protected out here and he'll be protected in there. Nothing will happen."

When they arrived in the camp, she remained in the wayn until Ned had set up his tent and then she ducked inside to wait for Robb to come see her before the wedding. She found herself pacing nonstop. It was all this secrecy that made her paranoid. At last Robb came inside wearing his finest doublet and looking quite handsome. She rushed into his arms, eyes filling with tears.

"What is it?" he asked, holding her tightly. She pressed her head against his chest, listening to the beat of his heart. How I love this man. For a fleeting moment, she was calm again and all was well. Then, it was over.

"Something about this place worries me, and I hear that was Grey Wind was ill at ease, as well. I wish we could climb on our horses and leave this place," she replied, trying not to show how nervous she was and alarm him. But something made her so afraid and the baby was restless, his kicks hard against her side and incessant.

Robb stepped away from her, but held her hands in his. "It's fine. Lord Frey was less hostile than I suspected he'd be. Edmure's bride is fair, and seems gentle and kind, so he is happy with her. Even Mother can't complain about our reception. Frey does expect me to dance with each of his daughters, but the chambers he's given me are fine enough. You could stay in them tonight if you'd like. You have a built-in excuse for missing the wedding," he said resting his hand on her stomach. "Our son is as anxious as you are, my love. Perhaps his mother needs to calm a little."

"No, I don't want to go inside. I want you out here with me tonight. Could you make excuses to sleep in your tent?"

"I'll be with you. By then the wedding will be finished and I will have made amends with Lord Frey. I'll think of something to say," he answered dismissively. His eyes grew stormy. "Lord Bolton arrived. His bastard son has Theon Greyjoy at the Dreadfort. Ramsay Snow sent me a piece of his skin. Deirdre, he's been…flayed alive."

She put a hand to her mouth in horror. What manner of creature was this Ramsay Snow?

Robb took her hand again and squeezed it. "Part of me is disgusted but another part of me feels he deserves far worse. But I told Lord Bolton to put an end to it. I will punish Theon the proper way, the Northern way."

Deirdre still felt nauseated by the news but said nothing. "Have you told Bolton about your plans when we leave here?"

"He knows that he's leading the van from the south once we're north of Moat Cailin. I think he might keep some of his men here at the Twins to wait for the raven about our sons. Lord Frey is his good-father now, so he's likely to find more comfort at the Twins than in a camp within marching distance of the Moat. He asked after your health and sends his regards. Apparently his young Frey bride is also with child now."

"Just what the world needs, another Frey," she remarked with a smirk. "But I suppose this one will be a Bolton. Please tell Lord Bolton that I appreciate his thoughts. I suppose you must go or you'll insult Lord Frey with your tardiness."

Robb ran his hands down the side of her face as he smiled. "Soon it will be just you and I, waiting for our babes to be born. And we can forget this war for a while. I promise you, we will celebrate them together and someday, all of the north will celebrate our children at Winterfell."

"I'm just ready to meet them," she replied, her hands resting on her belly. "It's been a long time since I first felt them stir."

"I remember it like it was yesterday." He smiled and kissed her deeply, burying his hands in her hair as his tongue probed her mouth, seeking entrance. She returned his kiss with equal hunger and sank into his arms, calmed by the familiar feel of him holding her. After he released her lips, he rested his forehead against hers and said, "I love you, my sweet. I wish I could spend the night with you instead of Walder Frey and his horde of daughters, but a king must do his duties."

"Perhaps the king could slip out after the bedding and crawl into the queen's bed," she teased.

"The king would love to. I will find a way to return tonight, so don't wait for me. The Freys intend to send food and drink to the camp, but I suggest you remain in Adair's tent with your guards as planned. When I return, I'll come to you," he promised with another kiss.

She kissed him once more, then smiled and let him go. Ned escorted her to Adair's tent and she lay down to rest, Robb's grin fresh in her mind.

She dreamed of Bran and Rickon's wolves. And for the first time, she could sense Arya. They were screaming at her, warning her about something. Jon was running towards her and suddenly she noticed that she was standing on the edge of an endless sea of red. Grey Wind came out of nowhere and attempted to leap over the gory rush, but was quickly caught within, letting out a mournful howl. Jon's face was a mixture of anger and terror, torn between leaping across to get to her or jumping in after Grey Wind. The wolf she so loved was drowning in an ocean of blood. She screamed and screamed.

Suddenly, she was shaken awake by Ned. Her ears were ringing, and she realized with mounting dread that the screams hadn't been confined to her dreams. They filled the air around her and her blood ran cold. Death. I'm surrounded by death. Where is Robb?

"We must go now, Your Grace," he said swiftly as he pulled her from the bed without waiting for a response. She could smell smoke and hear the chaos outside. Without thinking, she pulled away from him and rushed from the tent, screaming for Robb.

x-x-x

Robb could hear the clashing of steel on steel over the music, though he could see nothing but the table atop him. The weight of the table and the Smalljon's body had him pinned to the ground. He was dying; he had no doubt. But he would not die hiding beneath a table, as his men died around him. He heard the howling outside and reached for Grey Wind. If he could warg into the wolf now, perhaps he could save Deirdre at least. Hot tears fell on his face. He'd never kiss or hold her again. He'd never hold his child. His child and his wife - the reason Lord Frey planned this slaughter – they'd be hunted, both mother and child would be hunted more than ever. Robb wouldn't let the old bastard kill his child. His sons…Robb knew in his very soul that Deirdre carried two sons. He had to get to her somehow to help her escape to Jon.

Jon would protect his sons and his wife, for the love he bore Robb and for the love he most likely still bore Deirdre. Jon would rebuild Winterfell and bring Sansa and Arya home. He'd avenge Robb's death. His brother would take Walder Frey's head.

Robb knew he couldn't make it out of the hall on his own. He saw the bodies of his men scattered around and worried for his mother. He tried to remember where had she been before the fight began. Rising up, he pushed the table a few inches.

"Robb!" He registered Dacey's voice at his side and felt her push at the table.

"Dacey! Stop!" he ordered as forcefully as he could, despising how weak he sounded. Her face came into view as she crouched down to his level. "Find Deirdre. You need to help Ned and the others get her to the Wall. Give Jon my will."

"I'll help you first," she insisted, tears streaming. There was blood on her face and the tears made wet tracks through it. "Then we'll both find Deirdre." She started to stand up again but Robb grabbed her arm. She stopped and clutched his hand.

"As your king, I command you to go," he said weakly but she shook her head, her eyes pleading with him. "Find my mother and go. Please Dacey, as my friend…for the love I know you have for me and my family…please go, help my mother and protect my wife and child." Tears choked his voice. "Tell her that she was everything to me and that I will love her until my last breath…please Dacey, tell her. Please go."

She continued to shake her head in denial, then glanced around the room before her eyes once again took in Robb's wounds. After a moment, Dacey nodded reluctantly and kissed his hand, sobbing openly. In between sobs she said, "It was an honor to fight for you. I will follow no other but your blood. I will protect them with my life. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you, my king…my friend." With a final squeeze of her hand, she disappeared.

Once again, he was alone in this hall of death that reeked of betrayal and blood. Focusing on Grey Wind, Robb poured his energy into reaching the wolf. The attempt left him dazed, and he still couldn't sense him, not now, when he needed to most. Anger filled him at the sheer bloody injustice of it all and he pushed at the table in frustration, determined to kill Walder Frey or die trying. Suddenly his vision blurred and he thought perhaps he'd been hit again. Then he felt the familiar rush of sensations from Grey Wind.

He thrashed against a net as arrows rained down on him. A crossbow bolt struck his hindquarters but at an angle that did little damage. Robb felt Grey Wind's panic and had to struggle to stay with the wolf. Suddenly bolts were hitting him and he howled in pained fury. Robb's sense of loss and despair of Grey Wind's fate threw him deeper into the wolf's mind and he wasn't sure if he could pull himself away if he tried. He recognized a voice and saw his standard bearer, Raynald Westerling, swinging an ax above the net. Two bolts hit his shoulder tearing through the muscle and sinew with such force, Grey Wind whimpered and Robb groaned aloud. As the wolf crashed to the ground, free of the net, Robb was forced out of him, back to the cursed hall. He attempted to rejoin his wolf, but the pain was too much. He wasn't sure if it was his own pain or Grey Wind's but he was losing strength fast.

Robb had to get up. He could not lay there and die while his wife and child were in danger. At least his mother was likely safe. Praying to the old gods and the new, he pushed at the table once more to slide out from underneath it. Every inch of him ached and he struggled for breath. Taking a summary of his wounds, Robb refused to give up hope. He could get to Deirdre and her guards. They'd take him to a maester and he'd hold his sons in his arms soon.

A memory of his own father came rushing back to him. He and Jon had been small children, climbing through the windows of the Broken Tower, despite his parents forbidding it. Jon had cleared the window and waited outside, but the fabric of Robb's breeches had caught on a jagged piece of wood, throwing him off balance. When he landed outside the window, he had managed to rip open his leg in a wound almost to the bone. Jon tried to help him limp back to the castle so no one would see where they'd been but he couldn't get too far bearing most of Robb's weight.

"Don't tell Father," Robb made Jon swear when at last he sent his brother for help.

Jory Cassell had come, carried Robb back to his room and sent for Maester Luwin. Jon had sat there watching Robb, refusing to speak for fear he'd be questioned. When his father came into the room, Jon whispered, "I didn't tell him. I swear it."

"What's this?" Father had asked, sitting on the bed and looking at the wound. "How did this happen?" When Robb remained silent, his father had looked expectantly at Jon, who'd stared at his feet. With a sigh, Father rose to get some water and a cloth. "You were both in the Broken Tower, weren't you? There are reasons why it's forbidden. This time it was a cut, next time one of you might break a bone or worse; break your foolish necks."

The tears that Robb had held at bay thus far threatened to fall. When they filled his eyes, he bit his lip to keep them back. Ned began cleaning the wound while waiting for the maester. "I imagine this hurts enough that you've learned your lesson, haven't you?"

His father had eyed him until Robb had nodded. "If you break the rules, sometimes you have to pay a price." Glancing back and forth between the two, Father had continued, "In future, when you think of going to the Broken Castle, I want you to remember how much this hurt, Robb. Jon, remember how worried you were about your brother. You both promised me you wouldn't go play there. You are supposed to protect each other and that includes reminding each other not to do dangerous things. Each time you are about to do something foolish, don't think of yourself, but instead of how bad it would feel to have your brother hurt because you were careless."

"Are you going to tell Mother?" Robb had asked miserably.

"One day, you'll make mistakes that cannot be erased as easily as keeping it from your mother, Robb. Someday, other people's lives will depend on you." Father had run a hand through his hair and looked at the pair of them then, his grey eyes solemn. "Do you understand? Suffering reminds us how frail we are, so you must always learn from it."

Robb had never felt so vulnerable as he did then, lying there like a rag doll on the floor of the hall in the godforsaken Twins. The possibility that his wife and child would suffer as well left him feeling frail and weak to his core. He remembered painfully how much Jon had suffered under the weight of having a parent that he would never know, and Robb knew well the pain of losing a father. And now he was leaving his wife a widow, his sons fatherless.

Gathering what strength he had left, Robb struggled to his knees. The music had stopped save for a drum and it seemed to thrum in sync with the beat of his heart. He heard Grey Winds howling. He still lives, and so do I. Feeling a surge of hope he took a breath and raised his head, taking in the scene around him. The raw carnage almost destroyed that hope, but in the back of his mind he kept repeating Deirdre's name, remembering the feeling of his child kicking at his hand through her stomach, the joy in Deirdre's face when she'd see him after a battle: Deirdre, his sweet wife who needed him to survive this or at least, to fight.

His gaze fell on Lord Walder Frey and Robb gritted his teeth, then put his hand on the table and forced himself to stand despite the agony of his wounds.

"You Starks are hard to kill." Jon had said when they'd last seen each other. 'You'll be a Stark soon, brother. Protect Deirdre and my children. Love them well.'

/"Heh," Lord Walder cackled at Robb, "the King in the North arises. Seems we killed some of your men, Your Grace. Oh, but I'll make you an apology, that will mend them all again, heh." ||

Robb growled low in his throat, hatred for this vile man coursing through his system. Before he could answer him, he heard his mother speak and some of the fight left him. Dacey… had she left his mother or was she lying in this hall somewhere, dead? Deirdre…

/"Lord Walder! LORD WALDER! Enough," said Catelyn. "Enough, I say. You have repaid betrayal with betrayal, let it end." His mother held a knife to the neck of Frey's lackwit grandson. "Please," she said. "He is my son. My first son, and my last. Let him go. Let him go and I swear we will forget this... forget all you've done here. I swear it by the old gods and new, we... we will take no vengeance..."

Lord Walder peered at her in mistrust. "Only a fool would believe such blather. D'you take me for a fool, my lady?"

"I take you for a father. Keep me for a hostage, Edmure as well if you haven't killed him. But let Robb go."

"No." Robb's voice was whisper faint. "Mother, no...

"Yes. Robb, get up. Get up and walk out, please, please. Save yourself... if not for me,\\ for Deirdre. Do it for your wife and child."

"Deirdre," he whispered, hearing the wolf howling mournfully. Robb knew he was weakening. Grey Wind was dying and so was Robb.

/"Mother," he said, "Grey Wind..."

"Go to him. Now. Robb, walk out of here."

Lord Walder snorted. "And why would I let him do that?"\\

'No, mother. It's too late,' Robb thought but couldn't form the words aloud. He wanted to plead for his mother to be spared but Grey Wind's howls were growing quieter still. Their lives and fates bonded together more than ever, Robb felt his heart slowing and his head swam with visions from outside in the yard then back in this blood soaked hall.

'Deirdre, my beloved, go to Jon. He will protect you and will love you as I have. Gods give him strength to protect you all. Find our sisters, Jon…find fierce little Arya and sweet, beautiful Sansa. Bring them all home. I want my sons to be raised in Winterfell with my sisters and you. I love you. I love you all.'

/"On my honor as a Tully," Catelyn told Lord Walder, "on my honor as a Stark, I will trade your boy's life for Robb's. A son for a son."

"A son for a son, heh," he repeated. "But that's a grandson... and he never was much use." \\

An urgent and desperate feeling coursed through Grey Wind, then a flash of unknown grey fur and gold eyes flashed into Robb's mind and a sense of familiarity passed through him. He took a few feeble steps, not knowing anymore where he was going. He was too weak to go any further. Roose Bolton appeared suddenly before him and Robb stared at him, reaching out to catch himself on Bolton's shoulder. He was close enough that Robb could hear his breathing, soft and steady. The lone beat of a drum continued to sound through the silent hall.

"Jaime Lannister sends his regards," Lord Bolton said. Robb didn't even have time to register his meaning before he felt the blade. Somewhere, his mother was screaming.

The blade was cold. Then, he felt nothing.