Sorry about the delay. I am recovering from eye surgery and can't use the computer too long at a time.
Chapter 12
Deirdre, Dacey and Ned broke their fast together on food Pyp and Grenn had brought them after Maester Aemon and Gin had checked on Deirdre and the babies.
"Where's Jon?" Deirdre asked, cradling Brandon to her shoulder.
"He's still sleeping. He was injured the other day, so the maester suggested we let him sleep," Pyp replied. "How are you feeling, my la…I mean, Your Grace?"
"Still tired, but better than yesterday. I was actually able to sleep a little, thanks to your dreamwine." She turned to him with a smile. "If it hadn't been for you and Gin, well, I don't think we would have managed." Leaning over, she kissed him gently on the cheek, smiling when his ears turned bright crimson.
Ned chuckled under his breath at Pyp's face. "Beware, Your Grace," Dacey smirked. "It won't do the realm any good to have half the Night's Watch under your spell."
"A group of men in a frozen wasteland with no women around? She'll soon have all of them under her spell," Ned laughed quietly, trying not to disturb a sleeping Benjen in his arms. "You could even keep a few for yourself, Dacey."
Grenn looked up quickly and Deirdre smothered a laugh at his hopeful expression.
"Ignore them," she told Pyp. "They're loyal to the core, but sometimes their manners leave much to be desired." She shot both Ned and Dacey a warning look.
Jon came in then and Dacey could see from his face that he hadn't managed to sleep. He glanced briefly at Deirdre and nodded to her before asking to speak with Dacey. Surprised he didn't seem interested in checking on the boys and Deirdre first, Dacey stepped outside the door with him. "If this is about last night…"
"No, nothing like that. We have to tell Deirdre about Robb. We can't keep the truth from her any longer and if she should find out from someone else…" He ran his hands through his hair, a pained expression on his face. "You've been with her for most of the year, thus you have a better understanding on how she's been lately. Is she strong enough to hear this now? We need her to be there for her sons. She cannot lose her senses, not while everything remains so uncertain. There will be another battle soon, likely worse than the one we had yesterday. If I die…you'll need to get her and her sons to safety."
Not for the first time, Dacey wondered if the king had been right to send them to the Wall. She trusted Jon Snow and could see how committed he was to their survival, but she didn't know how the other brothers would react to their presence once it became more commonly known. Besides, the Night's Watch had enough to contend with at present. Could they ask them to do any more than they had? The Mormonts had always been staunch supporters of the Watch, and Dacey knew only too well how poorly-outfitted the Watch was. And now a hoard of wildlings sits at the gates, preparing to attack."We'll take her to Bear Island, or to the mountains where Ned's family lives, if the Ironborn threat is too high at home. Perhaps it would be best if we began making preparations and leave now."
"No, the wildlings probably have some men south of the Wall. It's safer for you here for now. How will she handle the news of Robb? She needs to hear the truth and it should come from me," Jon said. He was the palest she'd seen him and she reached up to touch his face. He shouldn't be here. He can barely stand.
"You're feverish. You should be resting your wound. Allow Ned and I to tell her," Dacey offered. "She knows us and would listen to us…"
"Robb was my brother. You brought his wife to me for safety, and while she's here, she's my responsibility."
Dacey tried not to sigh aloud and just silently counted for a few moments. Why must Starks be so stubborn? The whole bloody lot of them. "The Queen is strong, but a lot of her strength came from their bond. I honestly don't know how she'll manage this. She frequently surprises me with her strength, but not about Robb being injured or killed. We've all been conflicted about keeping this from her, but we couldn't risk her losing the babes." Dacey paused, searching for the right words. "It will hurt her more than anything ever has, but Brandon and Benjen will help her endure, I think."
"There's something else you should know. Tywin Lannister helped them plan the Red Wedding. Someone gave specific instructions that the queen be brought to King's Landing, unharmed, so they are after her, and will probably keep looking for her. The Imp married Sansa. It won't be long before they attempt to claim Winterfell and the north as their own, through Sansa if they cannot get their hands on King Robb's heirs."
She hesitated again. "One more thong, your brother made a will. He wanted you to act as Lord Regent until his heir was old enough, and issued a degree of legitimization to give you the powers and protection of the Stark name." Dacey reached inside her cloak and pulled out the parchment bearing Robb's seal. "You'll want to read this in Maester Aemon's presence and witnessed so they can attest to its validity. My mother has a copy of it as well."
Jon Snow hadn't so much as twitched as he stared at Robb's will for a few moments. His face remained passive, though something flickered in his grey eyes. Finally, he spoke. "All of that can wait until later. Right now, all that concerns me is telling Deirdre about Robb." His voice was soft but firm. She nodded, tucking the parchment back in her cloak.
"Gin and I can watch the children. Why don't you take Deirdre to my room?" Before he could turn away, she stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Forgive me about last night. I should never have been so presumptuous, either about your character or your motivations."
"Think no more on it. You're not the first to judge me, my lady, and I daresay I've grown quite used to it. We tend to be blind when it comes to protecting those we love," His voice was wary, and he moved towards the room then, shutting the door behind him.
Dacey stared at the door he'd gone through for a long time. I told him King Robb legitimized him and he didn't make a sound. Isn't that what all bastards want? But then, the Starks aren't like the rest of us, are they, and he's just lost his brother. Since the wedding, her focus has been on honoring her promise and defending her queen. She hadn't spared a thought for how their presence would affect the man they sought for aid. Jon Snow was clearly almost as vulnerable as Deirdre was right now, and his sorrow weighed heavily on him. He was just more adept at hiding it. The Starks may truly be made of ice.
x-x-x
"Why have we come here?" Deirdre asked, entering Dacey's chambers. She was still somewhat weak and sore, so Jon kept his arm securely around her waist until she was seated on the bed.
"I wanted to talk to you alone." He sat down beside her and she turned to him, reaching for his face and idly tracing a scar.
"I didn't even ask about your scars last night. I once dreamed an eagle attacked Ghost. Or was it you?"
"Yes, an eagle attacked me," Jon said softly. Her fingers were gentle and a flicker of worry crossed her face.
"Jon, you're feverish. Let me send for Maester Aemon. Is this because of your leg? I noticed you were limping as well."
He took her hands in his own, studying them for a moment. "Yes, but it must wait. Deirdre, I need to tell you something…it's going to be hard for you to hear it."
She was quiet for a moment before she met his eyes again, hesitating ever so slightly. "You're going to try to convince me that Robb is dead…that even without a body, you all assume he's…"
"Apparently, there was a body, Deirdre," he interrupted her, voice still soft. "Your men were afraid you'd lose the babes if they told you. But Robb is dead."
"No, it's a mistake. It's not possible." She shook her head quickly, avoiding his gaze.
"Deirdre, you know I would not lie about this."
"Jon, please stop. Just stop! He's not dead. Why are you saying this?"
"I wish to the gods it wasn't true. I know you loved him. We all did. He was my brother and I miss him terribly." Jon reached out and gently lifted her chin until she was looking him in the eyes. "But you need to accept this. You need to focus on the future, yours and your sons' future. Robb is gone, Deirdre. He's gone, and he's not coming back."
Tears filled her eyes and she sobbed loudly. Jon brought her into his arms and held her tightly as her cries became wails, ugly and anguished and echoing, loud enough to be heard by anyone in the rooms and halls around them. "No no no, please, Jon. Please, not Robb. Please, Jon. Please."
He could do nothing but hold her tightly, barely able to withstand her devastation. Her anguish was like an assault on him; a physical manifestation of his own pain as well.
And suddenly the man he was now, saw what the boy he had been, was blind to. He knew how lucky the three of them had been that his father had mistaken Deirdre's location that night, which forced Robb to marry her. Robb had loved her then. And her love for his brother grew far deeper than any love Jon knew. They had created two beautiful sons and a love that those close to them worked hard to honor. Jon was grateful that Deirdre had been by Robb's side. He deserved to be loved so intensely, as did she. But now Jon did not know how to help Deirdre through this.
Eventually, she was too exhausted to continue, her cries fading to silent tears. She sat up, pulling away from him, withdrawn, numb, almost all life gone from her eyes. He wondered if he'd lost her, if she'd gone away deep inside. Her voice was impassive when she asked him where Robb's body was.
Jon swallowed and had to look away. "It's best you don't know. It will only hurt you more."
"Tell me. I'll know eventually and I'd rather it came from you," she said, her eyes turning to him.
"They beheaded him," Jon admitted at last.
She flinched, but said nothing, just took a deep shaky breath. "I want his bones back, Jon. He needs to be buried in the crypts of Winterfell when we take it back. His sons should have a place where they can visit their father." At this, her voice broke.
Jon took her hand and swallowed roughly, saying, "They say that they stitched Grey Wind's head to his body. I don't think they'll be keen to give up his bones."
She didn't even seem to register the shock as she responded. He barely recognized her voice. "I don't care what they're keen to do. His bones belong with his family, not those abominations. Tywin helped plan this. I will kill him myself and sew his head onto Walder Frey's body."
"No. You'll be staying far away from both of them. Tywin offered a reward for your return, so he obviously wants you alive, and the north is surely soon to be crawling with sell swords and hedge knights craving gold. We need to keep you out of their hands."
"He wants my children to use, to keep the northerners in line. He doesn't care about me. It was only a matter of pride for him, because I was a Lannister, his property, to use as he saw fit. He showed how little he cared for me when I married Robb and he disowned me. It's always about power for him. I was expendable." Her voice was angry again and Jon knew he had to reach her.
Taking her face in his hands, he forced her to look him in the eyes. "You cannot look back. Listen to me. I understand your anger, but vengeance will destroy you." He saw the defiance in her eyes and knew that Dacey had been right. Her marriage and the war had changed her. "Please, remember Robb with love. That is a better honor than revenge. Think of your sons. You don't want to be bitter and vengeful. You'll end up like Cersei, and you're better than that. You have a kind heart."
Her eyes widened in surprise and he wondered if she would strike him as she had the previous night, but she merely seemed taken aback. He continued carefully, "Vengeance will consume your strength. Robb died for a noble cause. Do not become a kinslayer or bring a war of vengeance to the north. Robb's people love you and will love your sons. You can give them hope and restore these lands, or you can continue to bleed them until there's nothing left. Which do you think Robb would want for his sons? What would he want for you?"
Tears welled up in her eyes and she nodded, pulling away from him. She took a deep breath and stared down at her hands. "I don't think I can do this, Jon. I can't be a mother and a queen without Robb. How can I allow people like Walder Frey and Roose Bolton to murder my husband and suffer no punishment? I just want justice for my husband. I want justice for Bran and Rickon, for your father and Lady Stark. But how do I deal out this justice and become a killer without becoming hard and cold like the rest of my family? I can't do this alone." She's still there. We haven't lost her yet, thank the gods.
"Focus on your children. They're more important than anything now, including justice. Robb wouldn't want you to raise them to be consumed with hatred or vengeance. The North remembers, Deirdre. Always. You do not have to bear this burden alone. We'll find a way to do the rest, but for now, focus on Brandon and Benjen." He kissed her forehead and pulled her to rest on his shoulder. "And you're not alone. I'm here."
"You've sworn vows to remain here. You can't leave. It'll just be me and the boys," she said softly.
"I'll find some way to take care of all of you. I owe it to my brother," Jon promised. His heart ached for her, knowing that he may not survive the clash with Mance. He couldn't die yet. She'd lost everything but her sons and him. I'll live for them, no matter the cost.
Her fingers pressed against his chest before sliding her hand to the skin of his neck. "Jon, you're burning up," she said, sitting up abruptly, her face full of concern. "I'm sending for Maester Aemon." She rose and went to the table, pouring some cool water on a rag. Placing it on his forehead, she said, "Let me see your wound."
"I can't. It's on my thigh," he said, relieved with the coolness of the rag. Suddenly he felt light-headed and dizzy.
"Jon, don't be ridiculous, we were lovers. I've seen you without a stitch of clothing on, I think I can see you in small clothes," she insisted, unlacing his breeches.
Too weak to struggle, he allowed her to pull his breeches over his hips, down to his knees. He remembered her undressing him before in a much more sensual way. He was confused when that was and why they were here now. She removed the bloody dressing carefully. Her fingers felt cool on his skin as she probed the wound gently. It smelled foul, even to him. Now he remembered something about an arrow and being kissed by fire.
"It's opened and has festered," she declared. He glanced down at his leg to see blood and pus running from the inflamed wound and didn't argue with her.
Deirdre shook her head. "You're promising to protect me while poison is coursing through your veins!" she exclaimed in frustration. Jon had no idea why she was so upset. He was bleeding, not her. Slowly, he lay back because he felt sick.
Deirdre walked to the door and opened it, issuing commands. "Find Maester Aemon. Someone needs to tend to Jon's wound. It's festered and he's feverish."
She returned to the bed and stripped him of the rest of his garments until he was down to his tunic and small clothes. If his clothes are being torn off in such a frenzied matter, it ought to be for something he would enjoy. He suspected he was about to be disappointed about that. She covered him with a blanket, then pulled his head into her lap and wiped his face with the cool cloth.
"You're so stubborn, just like Robb," she said after a moment. "When he was hit with an arrow at the Crag, he didn't stop fighting, just jerked it out of his shoulder. It wasn't until hours later when he collapsed that anyone knew he was hurt. Did you take the arrow out yourself?"
"I don't remember," Jon said as he shivered. "I think I was alone."
"Well, you're not alone now."
Her skin is so soft. Shame flooded him as his senses returned for a moment. He had just told her that her husband had died, Jon's own brother, and yet all he wanted was to feel her lips on his. What kind of man was he? His thoughts were so muddled and heavy. He reached out and covered her hand with his own as his feverish eyes met hers.
"I promise I won't leave you again, Ygritte," he whispered.
She looked at him strangely before shushing him, trailing her fingers through his sweaty hair. Had he been feverish this entire time? He hadn't noticed. "You're going to be fine," she insisted.
He didn't get a chance to respond as Maester Aemon and Clydas swept into the room, followed closely by Ned and one of the Umber men.
"I think he might be dazed. He called me another name," Deirdre warned Maester Aemon.
"It's the fever," the maester told her, pressing his hands against Jon's cheeks. He had a way about him that was naturally soothing even if he was blind. "Jon, do you remember what we did the first night after you were wounded?" the maester asked, examining his wound carefully with his fingers. "We're going to need to do it again. It won't be as bad this time, but I shall need to drain the wound of infection."
Despite Ned's urging, Deirdre wouldn't leave, even as the men held Jon down and the maester laid a hot knife on the wound. Deirdre held Jon's hand as he attempted not to scream, and his nails left indents on her hand. She felt she owed him after yesterday. Eventually, he lost consciousness and she left to check on the twins, leaving Ned with Jon until she could return.
x-x-x
Deirdre returned to sit by Jon's bedside as her sons napped. Gin had assured her that she'd watch over them and let her know when they woke. Gallion and Balin were guarding outside her door.
A conveniently large dose of milk of the poppy meant that Jon was completely unaware of her presence, and she gently ran her hand over his cheek. He's the last of Ned Stark's sons now. For so long he'd lived in the shadows of his trueborn siblings, and barring Sansa, he was all that remained. It was ironic and cruel. And her children, her sweet babes, were all that remained of Robb. She'd held onto hope, though some part of her must have known.
How could I not have known he was dead? He was a part of me. But to give up hope would have made his death real. As long as she believed he lived, she could keep him alive. Oh, my beloved. How will I survive without you?
But he was gone. He was gone, and he wasn't coming back. He'd never hold her again, never kiss her or laugh softly as he attempted to keep her in bed in the morning. He'd never look at her from across the room and make her feel that rush of desire from the way his eyes trailed her body or lingered on her lips. He'd never pretend to resist her seduction to see to what lengths she'd go. His arms would never hold her when she wept about him riding into battle, shielding her from anything their opponents could throw at them. She'd never hear his voice first thing in the morning, drowsy and sluggish, or last thing at night, as he kissed her and wished her good dreams. He'd never hold Brandon or Benjen, would never, ever see their beautiful and perfect sons. That hurt so much. He loved his sons before they were born. He had long conversations with them, while in her womb. He took pleasure in every kick he felt. He cherished them without knowing them
Robb had died because of her, just as his father had died because of her family. She had done as much damage to the Starks as Jaime or Cersei, Tywin or Joffrey. What need did you have of marches or scouts, Robb? Your enemy was right here.
"He'll be fine," Ned said softly from the doorway and Deirdre glanced up in surprise. She hasn't heard him come in. Tears coursed down her face as she held Jon's hand tightly, suddenly afraid to let him go.
"He's the last one," she answered, her voice hoarse, wiping away the tears. "Ned Stark's last son. Robb's last brother. Brandon and Benjen's last uncle." She glanced up at his face. "It's my fault. If I hadn't gotten pregnant, Robb could have set aside our marriage and married a Frey…he'd still be alive."
"No," Ned replied, shaking his head and coming to stand beside her. "Lord Bolton and Tywin Lannister would have found some other way. Robb humiliated the Lannisters with every battle he won and they had to stop him. They were desperate, Your Grace. Your love and your sons were everything to the king." He smiled faintly. "He'd have sacrificed the rest of his years for the time he had with you."
She lowered her head and swallowed back the lump in her throat. "It should never have been like this. Good men should outlast the evil ones. Robb was so young and was a good king. Like his father before him, he was a great man. He cared for people; he cared about honor and loyalty. And our sons will never see that, they'll never know how much he sacrificed for them. There will always be that emptiness in their life." Her eyes met his. "Brandon is King in the North, Ned. And Benjen is next in line. I feel like they're being sentenced to misery and death. I don't want that for them. I want them to grow up and be happy. I don't want to abandon the Northmen to the Boltons, but what kind of happiness can Brandon have? What kind of childhood does the King in the North live?"
Ned was silent for a moment before shaking his head. "I don't know, Your Grace. But I know your love for your sons will be strong enough to..."
"Catelyn Stark loved her sons, too," she interrupted. "She loved them so much, and it didn't protect them. She had to watch Robb die." She returned her focus to Jon. "I can't bring Robb back. No matter what I do, he'll still be dead. So, I'll sit here and hold the hand of his last brother and pray to the Gods that they don't take him too, because my prayers might still help him. It's too late for Robb. All of my prayers went unanswered because he was dead all along. I will watch Jon, and I know that no one will give me false hope that he's still out there waiting for me, not rotting away in some shallow grave at the Twins."
Her comment was met with silence for a few moments. Long enough for her to regret her words and ungrateful attitude. Her sadness and intense anger were making her bitter and she hated it.
"We did what we thought was best for you and your sons," Ned said quietly. "We didn't want to see you hurting even more than you were, or see you lose your babes. I hope you know none of us would do anything to hurt you."
"I know." She nodded. "Please forgive me. I shouldn't have said that and I don't truly think that. I know you would never purposely hurt me and neither would the others. And you are right. I may have given up all hope. I am barely holding on to it now." She wasn't truly angry about their deception. There was too much anger for other things to feel anger at the few people that were left to her, and she was tired, so tired. She might not have made it to the Wall at all had she given up on Robb.
Ned came and sat in a chair facing her. "Robb and I used to have long talks over a few cups of ale and he talked about you a lot. I think he felt there was no one else to talk about private matters, other than you and I. He loved Dacey but he needed another man to talk to and SmallJon wasn't as close to you as I was. I was ill equipped to advise on wives, as I was unwed, but I was what he had. He had to be so certain about every plan he made in battle so his doubts came about your well-being and your future together. Not to be harsh, but I think Lady Stark made matters so uneasy because she didn't want her son to grow up. She didn't want another woman to have more say with him than she did. In her mind, you and she were fighting over influence with Robb. That is probably a typical thing with mothers and their sons' wives."
Deirdre watched him as every once in a while, a smile would ghost his face. He rarely ever confided in her with his discussions with Robb, likely out of confidence they shared, but she supposed it hardly mattered now. He was quiet for a long time before meeting her eyes. "The day he made the will, he was very anxious about it. He knew you didn't belong here, at the Wall, knew what kind of men were here and the weather conditions, but something made him fear you being in Riverrun, so far south. Lady Mormont said something, innocently enough, about your family and wasn't there anyone you could trust to protect you. The color drained from his face and later he asked me however would he protect you after his child was born. I tried to reassure him but he sat there writing plans out for the safety of you and your child, like they were battle plans. He planned out all of the alternatives. And every time, it came back to Jon Snow. He knew that you would be fine if you were with Jon."
"Ned…" she began and struggled for a moment about whether she should tell him but she felt like Robb did; Ned was the only one she could confide anything in. "There is a reason for that. Robb thought that because…"
"I know," Ned nodded, reaching out and taking her hand. Deirdre found it hard to be angry at Robb for telling him. Robb knew that she trusted Ned as much as he did or more. "He gave me no details but he implied as much. But that was only a small part of the reason. Mostly it was because of Jon and Robb's own bond. I know you've only known suffering at your family's hands but the bond between the Stark children was close, very much so. Most of the families in the North are closer, I think. My brother is my best friend and my sisters are dear to my heart. I suppose we have to rely on each other so much more for survival during long winters."
"You must miss your family very much. Have you sent word to them?" she asked, instantly feeling horrible she had never asked. Ned came from a very large family with nine siblings: six older sisters, two younger sisters, and a brother only a year older than him. Normally his brother would have gone to war with the other men but Ned's father had been injured and his brother, Will, had remained behind to take over his duties for a time. Fortunately, he was spared the Red Wedding.
"When the Glovers and Mormonts take back Deepwood Motte, the Mountain Clans will assist. The others haven't decided how to notify our families safely that we are alive. We need to be careful because we don't know who to trust and messages can be intercepted. But Lady Mormont assured me she'd let my family know."
"I have been so absorbed in my own sorrow, I have not thought of everyone else," she admitted. "Forgive me, please. What happened at the Twins happened to all of us but everyone of you have focused only on caring for me. The Ironborn have taken your castles and your lords and fellow soldiers are hostages or killed by the Freys. And your queen is so selfish, I don't even ask about your families."
"Your Grace, you just gave birth to not one, but two sons, less than a full day ago. We understand your distraction." Ned smiled tenderly. "We all have lost a lot. But none of us have lost the love of our lives, except you."
"What would I do without you Ned?" Tears filled her eyes. She reached out and embraced him. After they let each other go, she added. "You have been my rock. One day I hope to find a way to reward your loyalty. But how can I repay you for my life or the lives of my sons?"
They sat in silence for a few minutes as Deirdre just watched Jon sleep. "I hope you know that my being by Jon's side now has nothing to do with our past. I just need him to survive, Ned. If he survives, maybe there is hope for the rest of us. Maybe my sons don't have to lose their uncle, too."
Ned watched her for a moment, silent, before saying, "Your Grace, forgive me for intruding, but no matter your intentions, Jon Snow clearly still loves you."
Deirdre started to argue but the words died on her lips and she glanced at Ned.
"He might feel ashamed about it because of Robb so he will likely never act on his feelings. But be kind to those feelings. For he has lost so much as well. No matter how small it is, if you allow him to have hope of the two of you..."
"I know, he might still love me," she whispered with a nod. "I have tried to be careful, but sometimes I know I should not depend on him so much."
"Your Grace, you should depend on yourself. I know you are mourning, but I also know what you are capable of. You need to find that spirit again. Look at Brandon and Benjen and remember how difficult it was for you to carry those boys and become a mother. And you did that alone, during some really tragic times. We will protect you, but you need to remember how to lead."
He squeezed her hand and rose, leaving her alone with Jon. Deirdre closed her eyes and listened to the sound of his breathing, soft and steady.
X-X-X
"There is nothing more I can do, my lord," the maester told Lord Tollett. "He has lost so much blood. It seems unlikely he will awaken."
Ser Brynden walked closer to the bed, looking at Robb with frustration. "Unlikely but not impossible? He is much better than he was before. His fever is gone and the bleeding has stopped completely." He did not mention Thoros attempting to heal Grey Wind as a way to help Robb. He wasn't sure if it had been pure insanity or desperation that drove him to hope.
"It is possible, Ser. But unlikely." The maester set some milk of the poppy beside the bed in case Robb needed more, then he slipped from the room.
Lord Tollett looked at Robb for a moment before asking, "Perhaps it is time to let his wife know he is alive."
"Give her hope only to crush it? No. She will know when he wakes or when Lord Umber and the Northmen reach the Wall to escort her and her child to safety."
As soon as the GreatJon arranged safe passage of his son's pregnant widow, Jeyne, from Seagard to Last Hearth, he had headed North to gather loyal men to escort the queen, Jon Snow, and Robb's heir away from the Wall before his troops intended to block Roose Bolton from getting past the Ironborn at Moat Cailin. Ser Brynden hated the fact that so many pieces were in play and he was forced to hide with the king. If he wakes up, it will be worth it.
"I will be leaving in the morning to head to the Eyrie. I am afraid I have more dark news," Uthor replied hesitantly. When Brynden looked at him, he explained, "Lady Lysa married Petyr Baelish a short time ago and word just reached us. She named him Lord Protector of the Vale. Then, soon after, she threw herself through the moon door. Lord Royce has called the lords together so we can get Lord Aaryn out of Baelish's hands and find out what happened to Lady Lysa."
Brynden's anger simmered. "I am sad that she is gone but I will never understand how Cat could be so lovely and clever and Lysa ended up being such a fool. She has always wanted to marry Littlefinger since he lived at Riverrun. But he only had eyes for Cat. And Lysa would never kill herself. She wouldn't leave her son."
"There was...concern about her ruling in the Vale. The lords all wanted to pledge our loyalty to Robb Stark, as Jon Aaryn would have wanted. Most of us grew up with or fought in Robert's Rebellion with Edward Stark. But she insisted on pretending the war wasn't even happening, refusing to allow one soldier to help, despite Lady Stark's pleas."
Brynden shook his head, thinking how there were only two Tullys left now. "If you weren't concerned, I would worry about your senses. Lysa never really cared much for other people's needs."
After thinking for a few moments, he turned toward his friend. "Even if Robb does not wake, Ned Stark's family still needs our aid. Assuming she made it to the Wall, Robb's queen is there with his heir under the protection of Ned's bastard son. Little Arya is here with us and Sansa Stark has fled the capital accused of murdering Joffrey Baratheon. She needs to be found before the Queen Regent finds her. They also need to reclaim Winterfell and the North or the Boltons and Lannisters will likely hunt them. Everyone suffers if the Lannisters gets more power."
"If the Vale joins the North and Riverlands, it will tear this country in half, you realize? Not that I am saying that isn't the right answer for all concerned. As it is, the Stormlands are rebelling against the Crown claiming Stannis is the rightful heir. I think the Reach, Crownlands, and Westerlands will be all that remain loyal to the Lannisters. Dorne certainly won't stay aligned with them if they have another option."
"Unfortunately, most of the Riverlands have bent the knee since the Red Wedding and Tywin gave Riverrun to the Freys. The only way to help all of our people is to get the North back so the Riverlands will have support if they join Robb...or his heir, again. Damn Walder Frey and Roose Bolton! Damn them to all seven hells! That betrayal has cost us so much and he will pay for it," Brynden growled under his breath. "Robb Stark was named King in the North by his people. He's a true born Stark, son of Eddard Stark, who was well respected in the Vale. And Robb proved to be a good king. The Lannister boy on the Iron Throne now is a bastard. You know Tywin Lannister is ruling the country anyway. I don't know much about Jon Snow other than what Cat said about him and what Robb said when he made the will. Naturally Cat hated the bastard her husband brought home. But Robb said Jon is just as honorable as their father. So, if Robb can't lead, Jon Snow will in Robb's child's name. I know it sounds like most things are unknown but once Robb wakes up or his heir is safely away from the Wall, the North can begin to fight back."
Lord Tollett didn't answer right away, debating what to do. Finally, he suggested, "Travel with me tomorrow and we can discuss it with Lord Royce at least. If he agrees, we can talk to the other lords after resolving what to do about Peter Baelish."
Brynden didn't like the thought of leaving Robb in anyone else's care. Or Arya. But he supposed that he would have to trust in Beric and the others plus Tollett's men. "If you can have some of your men help guard the king night and day, I will go with you. Some of the Northmen with me are also able. I will just encourage Arya to stay in here, out of sight, as much as possible. I know I can trust you and I mean no offense. But I know you will understand my reasons for being hesitant to trust your men, who I don't know."