Two nights before they were to set out for King's Landing. they feasted. The great hall was packed full with as many men as it could fit, and more men still spilled out of the doors and into the yard. Even more men camped outside of Winterfell's walls, and though the soldiers did not feast with the rest of them, Alys had seen fit to supply them with ample amounts of ale.

Robb's bannermen had been quick to arrive. It had taken nearly two moons for them to begin to arrive before her wedding, but the scent of blood enticed them, as they began to arrive a mere two weeks after the ravens flew from Winterfell. Alysanne thought that she must've filled every available guest room with Lords and their heirs, and the grounds surrounding Winterfell and the winter town were spotted with too many tents to count. She could not recall a time she had seen so many men gathered in one place for a common cause. There had been many guests for her wedding, but they did not bring with them soldiers or coursers or chargers. They had only brought with them gifts and favors to ask and suitors for the younger Stark children.

Lord Cerywn had been the first, as Cerwyn was only a half a day's ride from Winterfell, afterall. Lord Cerwyn brought with him as many men as he could muster along with his daughter Joelle. The Tallharts of Torrhen's Square were next. Eddara, although frightened by the war, had been overjoyed at the thought of seeing her father again. Alysanne had met Lord Helman briefly at her wedding but had spent no more time with him than she had with the other lords. She found him to be quiet, much like Eddara, but much more willing to speak his mind.

Lord Bolton arrived soon after Lord Helman, and after him came Lord Karstark. The Karstark forces arrived within a day of Lord Bolton with their white sunbursts flapping in the wind. Lord Karstark was the very image her Aunt Cersei had conjured up in her attempt to frighten her all those years ago: tall and wild and unkempt. He rode through their gates roaring for vengeance on behalf of Lord Stark, and Alysanne resolved to keep a watchful eye on him should Joffrey agree to negotiations. His three elder sons, Harrion and Eddard and Torrhen, rode with him and were just as tall and fierce as their father.

Then came the Greatjon and the Smalljon, the Hornwoods and the Glovers, and not least among them, the Mormonts of Bear Island. Lady Maege rode through their gates proud and tall, the very same way Jorelle had when she arrived in Winterfell, with her heir Dacey at her side. Dacey towered over her in much the same way Jorelle did, and much like Jorelle she had a morningstar strapped to her side. Maege was just as fierce and outspoken as her daughters but with none of their height.

With Winterfell seemingly fit to burst, Alys was glad to receive word that the Lords Manderly, Reed, Ryswell, Dustin, and Flint would meet them along the Kingsroad. She doubted they could find room for all of them in the great hall, let alone Winterfell.

Alysanne sat at the high table that night, Rickon to her left with Jon and Theon beside him. Rickon had been insistent on attending the feast and Robb had seen no harm in it. She supposed it would be good for the bannermen to see him in attendance, as he would be acting Lord of Winterfell once Robb set out for King's Landing. It will be good for him to see how Robb acts as lord as well. Rickon was always doing his best to imitate his oldest brother, and a good example was what he would need for the coming months. Let him draw from how he saw his father and brother act.

She loathed to leave him behind, so lonely was he already. There were so few children left for him to play with, and acting as Lord of Winterfell would be no easy task. He would be left with Maester Luwin. And Osha, she remembered. The wildling woman from the wolfswood. He had taken to her and she to him, and as wary of her as Alysanne was she knew that the guardsmen left in Winterfell wouldn't let anything happen to him. Nor would Shaggydog, the direwolf that trailed him everywhere. Perhaps Beth can watch over him as well.

Lord Bolton sat to her right, as Robb had taken to roaming the hall and discussing matters with his bannermen. There were many reasons she could not rest easy and enjoy the feast, Lord Bolton among them. He discomforted her. She never quite knew what to make of him and did not like how difficult it was to read the man. She liked even less the rumours that slipped out of the Dreadfort. Still, he was a valuable ally and so Alysanne did her best to ignore the rumours, as that was what they were. Only rumours.

It seemed Lord Bolton knew his value as an ally too, as it was not long after his arrival that he demanded command from Robb. It had infuriated Alysanne, but Robb had kept a cool head. Who is he to demand things from the acting Lord of Winterfell? The fact that Robb had still decided to place him in such a place of honor at the feast after such a demand had chafed her, but she bit her tongue.

Alysanne masked her displeasure in favor of making pleasant conversation. As pleasant conversation as one can have with such a man. She picked at her food but found she had no appetite and she could not focus on the plates passing her by.

"Lord Robb tells me that you're joining us on our journey south, my lady." She almost had to strain to hear him over the din of the feast hall, so quiet was he.

"Yes, my lord. I have knowledge of King's Landing, and Robb hopes it will be of some use." She took a sip of the wine in front of her and studied the hall. Robb was talking to Lord Karstark, and Jon had slipped away to talk to some of the men at the lower tables. She frowned a bit at that. He had voiced concern that the other lords might take offense when she told him he would join them at the high table that night. He was a part of their family, she had told him. He would be at Robb's councils, the other lords would have to grow accustomed to his presence.

"You do not worry, my lady, that you will find yourself in the middle of a war?" She met Lord Bolton's eyes but she could not read him.

She smiled genially. "I am well aware of the risks, my lord. I am sure the King and my husband will reach an agreement."

She knew that to be a lie, and so did he. "Yes, the king. Your cousin, yes? It does not escape me, nor many in this room, that it is your family who has imprisoned Lord Stark."

She bit her tongue and forced her face to remain pleasant. A fairly difficult task, but she managed. "The Queen is only my aunt, Lord Bolton. I do not know her well. My father is only a kingsguard, and my mother has long passed. I am sure whatever has happened will soon be set right."

His eyes remained on hers, and she still could not read them. "One might be forgiven, my lady, for wondering if your sympathies do not lie with the family of your husband, but instead with that of your father."

She did not force her face to remain pleasant this time, nor did she bite her tongue. "You forget, my lord, that I have lived in the north for twelve years now."

"I have not forgotten, my lady. But you were born a Lannister and spent your first years raised a Lannister."

Her tone grew sharper than she intended and she met his eyes head on. "I may have been born a Lannister, but it was the wolves who raised me. Not Jaime Lannister, nor Tywin Lannister. It was Ned Stark. Ned Stark and Catelyn Stark. I am a Stark first and foremost, and my loyalty will always be with the North." The words came easily, but they did not settle her heart. How many doubt my loyalty? Unbidden memories of sun soaked days at the Rock came to mind, but that was then. That was years past, and now she sat in Winterfell. She searched the room for Robb and spotted him approaching the Greatjon. I should be down there with him. Let the lords see me amongst them. "If you will excuse me, Lord Bolton, I think I will join my lord husband."

She did not wait for reaction nor his dismissal. She weaved her way through the crowded hall towards where Robb was sitting across from Lord Umber. She faltered as she noted Robb's tense shoulders and the Greatjon's fury. Grey Wind stood behind Robb, and she did not miss how his hackles raised when Robb stood from his seat.

She crept close enough to hear Robb's voice. "You are welcome to do so, Lord Umber. And when I am done with the Lannisters, I will march back north, root you out of your keep, and hang you for an oathbreaker."

The Greatjon roared. "Oathbreaker is it?" All at once he went to draw his sword and Grey Wind was leaping across the table. Plates and goblets and mugs of ale went flying as the direwolf latched onto two of Lord Umber's fingers. Both wolf and man went falling to the floor.

Men yelled and Alys gasped, a scream lodged in her throat. Jon and Theon began pushing men aside to reach Robb but he remained still. A sickening crunch and Grey Wind was retreating, yet Lord Umber remained on the floor. Panic welled in her chest. The Umber's were important bannermen, they would need them in the south. The Greatjon is dead, and the son will wage war against us while we wage war in the south.

She held her breath as Robb spoke. "My Lord father taught me it was death to bare steel against your leige lord." Lord Umber lumbered to his feet, clutching his bloody mess of a hand close to his chest. The relief she felt at his survival was dwarfed by the sight of his hand. By the gods! Grey Wind has taken his fingers! "But doubtless, the Greatjon only meant to cut my meat for me."

The entire hall held their breath and Lord Umber kicked his chair out of the way. "Your meat!" He stared Robb down and glanced around the hall. "Is bloody tough!" He began to laugh, and the rest of the hall joined in, Robb among them.

She breathed out and clutched a hand to her stomach. Relief coursed through her. We're lucky that did not end poorly. She turned and headed for the doors, seeking fresh air.

Night had long fallen and clouds covered the sky, hiding the moon and stars from their sight. Snow fell gently and Alysanne was glad for the fur cloak covering her shoulders. The snow did not stop the festivities outside the hall, as men still shouted and wrestled in the snow.

Seeking quiet, she made her way up to the battlements. Any other night there would be guardsmen roaming and watching, but not tonight. On the eve of war it appeared that Winterfell was at it's safest. Northern lords and soldiers roamed about and hardly was there anywhere one could truly be alone and unnoticed. She came to a stop over the gates and looked out over the city of tents. Cookfires glowed and smoke rose into the sky, and the tops of tents were capped white with a dusting of snow. The shouts and laughter of men below rang through the air, a distant echo from where she stood.

The scuff of footsteps climbing the stairs caught her attention, and she found Ser Addam climbing the steps to join her. Snow dusted his smoke grey cloak, much like the tops of the tents below. "Ser Addam," she greeted softly. He came to join her and settled beside her, studying the gathered men as she had been.

"Little lion," a fond smile graced his face and deepend the wrinkles around his eyes.

The old, familiar nickname warmed her. He had called her that since she was just a girl, less so as she grew older. It occurred to her, for the first time, that the name was not strictly true any longer. She hummed. "I'm a wolf now. Or have you forgotten?"

His smile grew melancholy and his eyes softened. "No, I haven't forgotten. But in my mind you'll always be the little lion cub I led north."

That feels like ages ago. Much had changed since then, but Ser Addam hadn't. He had perhaps acquired a slight northern brogue, and the wrinkles by his eyes were new, but the man was still the same. He remained the same man who had eased her sorrows on the journey north and had quelled her fears of the northmen. She could not recall a time when he had let her down, nor could she recall a time when he had failed in his duty to her. He would stick by me even if it meant his death.

The silence enveloped them and she grasped at the chance to spend time in his company. The stillness atop the battlements was almost as peaceful as the feast hall was rowdy, and she feared she would find little such peace in the coming months. "Robb's settled matters with his bannermen and the arrangements have been made. They ride out in two days time." She spoke the words and her stomach twisted.

His shoulders fell. "Answering Joffrey's summons with an army of northmen at his back is a threat he won't take lightly. Neither will your grandfather. I know he still has hopes to negotiate, but it will likely end in war."

"I know," she crossed her arms. Robb spoke of the army he had summoned as a mere show of force, as an insurance that Joffrey would not double cross them. But he was no child and she suspected he knew the truth as she did, that peaceful negotiation was not the likely outcome. But she would let him hold on to his slim hope of peace and do everything in her power to make it true. "That's why I'm going with him."

Ser Addam snapped his gaze to her, worry writ across his face. "Are you sure that's wise? It will likely come to war, you and I both know." She had avoided telling him her plans, knowing him well enough to anticipate the protests he would wage. He had trained her with a sword and dagger, but she suspected it was more for his own peace of mind and her own. Never did he intend for her to use what he had taught her, so well guarded was she. Rides in the wolfswood were with him trailing behind. On their journey to King's Landing, they had been accompanied by what Alysanne thought to be an excessive amount of guards. And never was she alone in that city. After the incident with Joffrey, if Ser Addam was not with her himself she was followed by no fewer than two of the Stark household guards that had been sent with them. She thought the lengths he went to ensure her safety were a tad excessive, but she would never tell him so, as he did not stop her from doing as she wished. It was a fair trade, in her mind.

Alysanne faced him fully. "I know more of the Westerlands and my grandfather than he does. More of King's Landing and Joffrey-," she hesitated before continuing, "-and my father. I'm of more use to him there than here."

Ser Addam grimaced. "If you are certain that is the right course, I will be by your side."

I will be by your side. His words echoed in her mind, and she knew her next words to him would hurt to say. "If it does come to war as we fear, it will be against my family, and yours will be sure to join against the north.

You never swore a vow to me. Your vows were to my father, to protect me as his daughter. As a Lannister. I'm married now, and you are no longer beholden to me. I won't think any less of you if you wish to return home," Ser Addam moved to protest but Alysanne held up a hand. His face hardened but he let her continue all the same. "I won't force you to fight against them, to stand opposite a battlefield from men you grew up with. From men you share blood with. My decision is not yours, and your loyalty must be foremost to your family."

The words stung, but the anger on his face stung more. Never had she seen him truly angry with her. It was necessary. She had come to the conclusion just two days past as she watched the northmen prepare for war. Never had he forced her to do anything she did not truly wish, and she would not force him to fight against his family.

Ser Addam clenched his jaw and exhaled sharply through his nose. "My loyalty is to my family." The sound of metal against metal rang through the air as he drew his sword from the sheath.

He knelt to the ground in front of her. "What are you doing?" shesnapped. "Get up."

"You said it yourself, I've not sworn any vows to you." He laid his sword at her feet with a flourish. "So I offer my services, Lady Stark. I will shield your back and keep your counsel and give my life for yours if need be. I swear it by the Old Gods and the New."

She gaped down at him, dumbfounded, before she remembered the vow she was meant to give in return. "And… and, I vow that you shall always have a place by my hearth, and meat and mead at my table. And I pledge to ask no service of you that might bring you dishonor. I swear it by the Old Gods and the New," she swallowed the lump in her throat, but still he did not stand. She straightened her back and tried to school her face. "Well? Get up then."

He stood and made a show of brushing off his trousers. "There. Now that's remedied." A small laugh escaped her before she could stop it and tears stung at her eyes. He sheathed his sword and gripped her by the shoulders. "I will always be by your side, Alys. Do not ever, for a second, think otherwise. And never make such a suggestion to me again."

She nodded her agreement and he smiled brightly at her. She gave him a watery smile back and stepped into his arms, burying her face in his chest as she so often had as a child. "You would stay with me, over your family? Your true family?"

He sighed. "You are my family too. For twelve years now. I could not so easily abandon you." She stepped back and he fixed her hair. "Besides, maybe that husband of yours is right, and all of these preparations will be for naught."

Below them lords were exiting the hall. The festivities were dying down and men sought their beds. Or more fun in winter town. Ser Addam bid her goodnight, but there would be no rest for Alysanne yet. On the desk in her solar, accounts she had put off till later awaited, and later had come. It was no small thing to feast so many men, nor was it a small matter to feed an army of northmen. Winterfell's stores had suffered, as had their coffers. Wars were expensive, it turned out, and it was her responsibility to figure out just how expensive.

She approached the door of her solar, her only wish to warm herself by the fire and finish the accounts so she might go to bed. She paused with her hand on the knob. Faint voices caught her attention. She looked up and down the hall but could find no one. She pressed her ear closer to the door. Is that… She opened the door gently, only to find her ladies huddled in a circle with their heads close together, whispering furiously. Not quite whispering.

They did not hear her enter, so focused on their schemes were they. It was not until she cleared her throat that they broke apart, Beth and Eddara jolting in surprise. "Were you looking for me?" Alysanne asked, an eyebrow raised.

A silent argument passed between her ladies, and each of them shared pointed looks with the other. Wylla eventually sighed and stepped forward. Her hands were folded behind her back and she stood tall with purpose. "You're going south with Robb," she stated.

Alys narrowed her eyes. Beth stood on the far left and was doing her best to reign her face into a look of innocence. We'll need to work on that, Alys noted. Eddara stood a hair behind Beth and Jorelle and would not meet her eyes, and Jorelle stood with as much purpose and fierceness as Wylla. "I'm going south with Robb, yes."

Wylla made to continue, but much to her surprise it was Eddara who continued for her. "We're going with you."

Alys stared at them incredulously, but none of them gave any indication they were joking. "You cannot mean you are coming south with me?"

"Aye, that is exactly what we mean," Jory replied. "What else could we possibly mean?" Wylla said.

Alysanne letout a rather unladylike laugh. "You will not. It will likely be war, and your families would have my head even if it wasn't." She could not imagine Robb's bannermen would take kindly to their daughters accompanying the northern army south. They already did not take kindly to her, and she suspected she would have a hard enough time convincing them that her presence alone would not be a burden, let alone her and four ladies.

"My mother and sister are going, they will take no issue with me joining," Jory argued. Maege and Dacey. I suppose they will take no issue with it. But Lords Manderly and Tallhart? Ser Rodrick?

Alys did not respond to Jory, but instead focused her attention on the other three. "And you, Wylla? Eddara? Beth? I can't imagine your families have given you leave."

Beth mimicked Wylla and Jory and straightened her back. "We serve you. If you're going, then by rights we should accompany you." Alys knew that was not strictly true, that if their families wished they could recall them home, and they would be well within their rights to do so. They know that as well as I do.

She studied Beth closely but she did not falter. Shefocused her attention on Wylla and Eddara. "If I was wise, I would send the two of you home."

Wylla raised her chin. "And we would turn tail and ride south after you."

"It will likely be war. There will be no comforts on the road, and save Jorelle the three of you have no place in war camp." Alys pointed out.

"That's not true!" Eddara interjected. "Beth's stitches are cleaner than any of us, and you'll need people to mend clothes and tents and stitch wounds. And I used to follow the maester at Torrhen's Square around relentlessly. My mother, when she was alive, used to scold me for it but I wouldn't listen." Alysanne tried to imagine Eddara being so disobedient, and the thought nearly made her break and laugh. Eddara continued on. "And Wylla!" She pursed her lips in concentration, and Wylla sighed.

"Thanks, Neddy," she scowled in her direction. "My father raised my sister and I as his heirs. If my father is going then I have every right to do the same. Just as the sons of the other bannermen. You can argue all you want, but it's been decided. We're going, and if you don't let us join you we'll just ride south after you've left. And then it will be just us four on the road and it will be much more dangerous."

God's, they're relentless! Alysanne's lips ticked upwards in mirth. "I should have the four of you whipped for your insolence," she joked.

Jorelle smiled triumphantly. "If it means you'll let us join you, then by all means!"

They all shared a laugh before Alysanne grew serious once more. "You'll pack light. I won't have it said that I bought a court of frivolous ladies south with me." She knew some of the lords still thought her a silly southron girl, despite her years of upbringing in the north. She would not have it said that she demanded her finery be brought with her, and her ladies to wait on her.

They all agreed, and Alys sent them on their way. She looked to her desk, where the accounts lay yet unfinished. Nothing will change by tomorrow, she reasoned. Her plans of finishing her duties abandoned, she instead made her way into her and Robb's shared chambers.

She had been on her feet since that morning, entertaining this lord and that lord. Seeing to the complaints of one before being called by another. If it wasn't a lord who needed her it was Rickon, and if it wasn't Rickon it was a household matter. She had spent half her day in the kitchens going over that night's meal with the cook, and it dawned on her that she hadn't even eaten any of it.

Robb already sat in their bed and he smiled when he saw her enter. Grey Wind slept curled in front of the hearth and raised his head at her entrance. Robb had been up before her that morning and had spent most of his day organizing the march south. I haven't spoken to him once today, she realized. She returned his smile and she reached behind herself to unlace her dress.

He climbed out of bed to help her out of her dress and stays, leaving her in her shift. She forewent brushing out her hair and instead left it in a single braid, too bone weary to avoid the call of soft furs. She crawled under the furs and Robb joined her. My feet ache, my back aches, is there any part of me which does not hurt?

"I received a raven from my mother today," Robb said.

Another burden off their shoulders. It seemed so long since they had last heard from Lady Catelyn, and she had begun to worry. "She is safe, then?"

"Aye, she's in White Harbor. She'll join their host and meet us at Moat Cailin." Robb handed her the letter to read for herself, and she placed it on the small table by her bedside.

She blew out her candle and Robb did the same. The only light was the fire burning in their hearth. "Do you suppose she knows more about what happened?"

Robb settled into the bed and pulled her closer. "We can only hope."

Alys thought back to what Lord Bolton had said to her earlier. How many of Robb's lords think me a traitor? How many still think of me as a Lannister? She tightened her hold on him. "Robb?" She whispered.

"Yes?" He trailed his fingers up and down her back gently.

"I do not think your bannermen trust me."

His fingers stilled. "What do you mean? Did someone say something?" Grey Wind growled quietly from his spot on the floor.

I do not think Lord Bolton would be so forgiving of missing fingers. "No," she lied. It does him no good to know what he said. "But I fear they still see me as a Lannister. It's my blood that imprisoned your father, and they are not like to forget that."

His fingers resumed their path up and down. "You do not have to worry. Their trust is hard won, but you'll win them over." That did not settle Alysanne, and she did not rest easy that night or the next night.

Her fears were reaffirmed when they rode out of Winterfell early one morning. She rode at Robb's side with Grey Wind between them, Stark banner's flapping in the wind high above. Her place at Robb's side did not erase Lannister from their view of her, and as Winterfell grew smaller at their backs, the accusing stares of the northern lords grew more bold. Lord Bolton's burned hottest among them.