It was not long before the peaceful and happy days Rhaena came to know were broken. Broken by men, as most things were. Lord Rickard Karstark had gone in the night and slaughtered two innocent boys in vengeance for his two dead sons…because their name was Lannister. It sickened Rhaena when she heard. Those boys were only a little younger than herself. Now they were dead because of a war which was not of their doing and they had no right to be part of. It was an act that deserved a just end, with Lord Rickard's head upon a spike, however Rhaena knew as well as Lady Catelyn and Queen Talisa that Robb needed the Karstark men if they were to continue fighting. Killing their lord would only drive them away but Robb did not seem to listen to either of them in their counsel. He felt strongly that justice needed to be done, or his honour was forfeit. Honour. He would lose the war because of his honour, and because of his dishonour also. Already Robb had broken his vow to Lord Frey and yet now he was determined to do his duty and execute Lord Rickard for treason. Rhaena did not understand men or their twisted views of their own sense of honour and justice. Sometimes what needed to be done was not the honourable thing but the right thing, and not often were the two things the same. Only those who had grown up in a court of lies and deceit would know the difference between the two, because more often than not they were presented with the evidence of a person's basest forms and the paths of wrongdoing which became increasingly a part of everyday life. It gave Rhaena perspective, and perhaps a little wisdom others did not. Knowing what had to be done, she waited until all were gathered for the sentencing and execution of Lord Rickard Karstark before taking action, listening Lord Rickard reminded all of his blood connection to Robb who stood before him. "The blood of the First Men flows through my veins as much as yours, boy. I fought the Mad King for your father. I fought Joffrey for you. We are kin. Stark and Karstark."

"That didn't stop you from betraying me, and it won't save you now." Despite his sentencing Lord Rickard remained passive and stoic whilst speaking as Rhaena stood in attendance, her head covered with the dark wool cloak as the rain fell upon them like thick slugs of coldness. Lady Catelyn had tried to persuade Rhaena to stay indoors out of the rain and to keep her from witnessing the execution but Rhaena could not be deterred. Not for anything.

"I don't want it to save me. I want it to haunt you to the end of your days." Hearing the rage in his voice, Robb ordered for the lord to kneel, the block awaiting the rest of his chest so that his head might rest openly for the swing of a blade. Holding his sword before him, Robb passed his sentence of death upon the traitor, the boy-killer and though Rhaena would have seen the man die for what he did, she knew that Robb needed him more. As all men had the right, Robb offered Karstark to speak his final words. There was no begging for forgiveness or mercy, not even a defiant obstinacy in defence of his own actions, only venomous loathing and a continuing of his desire for vengeance. "Kill me and be cursed. You are no king of mine." Now. Rhaena must move now. She all but bolted from Lady Catelyn's side, bursting forwards so swiftly the guards could not stop her in time as she ran to Robb and Lord Rickon even as Robb lifted his sword up in order to swing it down. She flung herself forwards and gave a desperate cry with one hand raised in a pitiful attempt to stop a steel sword as her other hand grasped Lord Rickon's shirt, twisting into the back of his cloth. Were it not for Robb's sharp instincts and for the fact that his entire body had frozen in fear upon suddenly seeing Rhaena before him, he might have cleaved her in two along with Lord Rickon's head as several screams ripped the air.

"Please my king! I beg for your mercy!" Her hood had fallen from her head which meant her face and hair soon became wet with the rain, almost making it appear that she was weeping. Rhaena fell to her knees between Robb and the traitor, dropping into the mud which sullied her dress but hardly even noticed, grasping hold of the hem of Robb's cloak. "Mercy…have mercy upon this miserable wretch. He has done wrong and betrayed your trust, but he is still your vassal, he acted not against you but owing to his intense sorrow and grief. Mercy." The art of the tongue flowed effortlessly from Rhaena as she cast out her voice for all to hear her whilst Robb remained frozen and staring at her in a manner which seemed trapped between horror and rage. She pressed forwards. "My king…you know the anguish to lose one's father, how deeply the wound aches in your heart until it feels as if you shall bleed and bleed until there is nothing left within you." Tugging upon his cloak with a look of desperation, Rhaena gladly made a fool of herself before everyone, degrading herself to be on her knees in the mud all for the sake of Robb. "So I ask you this, my king…if you know the pain to loose a father…can you imagine the grief and torture to loose one's sons?" A rippling flicker of emotion began to bubble through Robb's enraged expression, softening upon the edges so Rhaena pressed forwards. "A man places his entire hopes and dreams for his legacy upon his sons, his precious boys, they are his pride and his joy. Can you not imagine the devastation Lord Rickard must have felt to lose one son in battle, honourable a death as it is, but to then lose his other child to a man without honour and no conscience? Lord Rickard did wrong, but surely you can understand the deep, unwavering love of a father and the overwhelming desire to avenge his own sons' deaths? His chosen enemies were gone, far beyond his reach, and so he turned that vengeance to the closest target at hand. Can you not see, my king? The insanity of a man who has lost all? Mercy for him, my king. I beg of you. Do not kill him today, but have him atone for his sins. What good does his death do for those boys? They will not know his fate, but he will know his own. Force him to face his own undoing, and spend the rest of his life repaying a debt to the innocent lives he took. Mercy. Mercy…" Even as Rhaena continued to beg, others began to take up her call and joined her in the chant.

"Mercy, Your Grace, we beg of you, mercy!"

"Mercy! Mercy my king, mercy!" Soon the voices were crying out together in unison just as Rhaena hoped, forcing Robb to shift his gaze and look upon his men. Inching closer, Rhaena placed her hands upon his med splattered boots and bowed herself down until her head rested in the mud also, ready to bow and bend as much as she needed. Talisa had also joined up the chant, coming closer to her husband in order to beg him until finally, Robb could bear it no more. Jerking back his foot, he wrenched it out of Rhaena's grasp before angrily grasping hold of her arms to drag her to her feet with his ashen face clenched tightly as he glowered. She was now covered in mud, but her eyes were calm. She no longer needed to beg, only communicate to him what he needed to realise. He needed the Karstark men, because without them he would lose everything, and he would never receive the opportunity to avenge his own father's death. He inhaled sharply, chest expanding with a portion of anger and frustration but the longer he looked into Rhaena's eyes, the softer he became. They were his undoing. Soft and subtle, like a pool of temptation as she coaxed him to become lost within her and lose the foolish notion of duty. No one was innocent in war and Robb was no exception. All the same, he could not abandon his principles in front of his men, but for the sake of a beloved he called his sister…perhaps he could show mercy then.

Drawing up his cloak, Robb delicately began to rub at Rhaena's face to try and wash away the dirt. He managed a little but smeared a great deal of it also, rather making it worse. It made them both smile and laugh grimly at one another. Abandoning his cloak he pressed his gloved hand to her face and rubbed at her cheeks as the rain helped to wash her clean, holding her entire face in her hands. "You would have me spare the life of a man who has betrayed my trust, dear sister?" Closing her own fingers around his wrists, Rhaena continued the charade for everyone watching, knowing that the game was still yet to end.

"If it would satisfy the law and the gods, my king, then I will gladly offer up my own life in penance for this man. Perhaps then he shall learn to regret." These final words sealed Robb's decision, looking at Rhaena for a few moments longer before finally gave a single but decisive nod of his head. Lord Rickard was pulled back from the executioner's block, scowling suspiciously to Rhaena who only spared him a glance before she turned away and thanked Robb for his mercy, going to kneel before him again but the young king halted her, grasping at her elbow and drew her back upright. She need not kneel again. She would not kneel again. Not to anyone, not so long as Robb lived and breathed. Rhaena had saved him as she had saved Sansa. With Lord Rickard alive he would continue to have his men at his command, and soldiers were in desperate need now more than ever. "My king?" Murmuring softly under her breath, Robb found himself drawn towards her once more, as if some magic held sway over his head and had caused him to become drunk upon her presence. He pulled her closer and flung his cloak around her, for hers was not suitable for rain and already was drenched through. Saying nothing to her, Robb signalled for his men to take Lord Rickard back to his prison cell to rot a while longer. There would be time once the war was over to deal the proper sentence to traitors and murderers. For now, however, all Robb could think about was how cold Rhaena must be feeling and feared she would take ill so began to escort her back to the castle where she could change and be warmed, leaving a tense and uncertain collection of onlookers behind, though none so anxious as Robb's wife, Queen Talisa, who bit at her lip and held her swelling belly in her hands as he watched her husband walk away from her with the Targaryen under the protection of his own cloak without even a single glance back at her.