The golden trident upright on black between two golden launches that was the Teague banner flew at the head of their procession, the banner flapped to the wind next to the blue twin towers of house Frey as Ignotus led their levies, near seven-thousand men: one hundred knights, and near two thousand mounted lances, swords and freeriders, and the rest footmen, armed with their spears, pikes and some with the tridents of Ignotus' household.

As Lord Blackwood had told him, Ignotus spotted the trout of the Tullys and the dragons of the Vance houses from the tents of the camp outside the castle, but, he found no sight of the stallion of Bracken, and knowing of the emnity of the Blackwoods and Brackens, he began to fear that their hatred had sprung an argument that had lost them the Brackens.

A fear that propelled him to the castle after he left Percival to see to the men, passed the men of his allies, which he greeted with gentle nods as he strode past them and their tents atop his horse. There were more Blackwood men guarding the way to the keep than there had been last time, and now, it was not their steward waiting for him here, but rather, Lord Walder Blackwood himself, no doubt having been told by one of the scouts Ignotus had encountered on the way here.

"Lord Teague," The man greeted cordially, striding forward as groomsmen came to mind Ignotus' horse and that of his guard, "I trust you journeyed well?"

"As well as can be expected," he retorted, dismounting, and offering the other man a smile, "And call me Ignotus, whenever possible. I think you've done far too much for me and mine for me to not call you a friend."

Lord Walder have him a smile, "As you say, Ignotus."

The other man was courteous and welcoming and had a servant have him settled to a prepared room, a large, plain chamber with oak beams and tapestries decorating its ageing walls, allowing him the freedom of the castle until Ignotus was ready to call a council with all the gathered lords. When Ignotus asked about the Brackens, the Blackwood responded with a disdainful scowl:

"He has refused my courtesy and camped himself south, close to the Red Fork."

So he learned that Lord Olyver Bracken was still with them, though that the lord would not overlook the feud for their cause irked him. Sometimes, despite them being mostly united against the Iron Born now, it was easy to see why they had suffered under one foreign ruler to another. All the riverlords were ever so divided. It was as if they took great joys in seeing their own countrymen suffer.

Even now, they were not wholly united. The Harroways had joined Harren, despite having suffered under the Iron Kings rule, as had the Butterwells and the Lollistons. No doubt they were little loyal to the king himself, but rather filled themselves with ideas of ambition, of gaining more land or power should they win over the rebelling riverlords, and that was enough for them to endure the tyranny of the cruel king.

The Darrys were held up in their seat, and gods knew what they planned. Ignotus didn't even know what was happening with the Pipers. As far as he understood, they had not joined the Darklyns with the Rosbys, Hayfords and Stokeworths south in the siege of Butter Hall. He would have to send an envoy to find out, if no one had already, but it was queer that he had to do something of the sort after initially imploring Lord Alyn with every other river lord to join him.

'This is how my ancestors lost their crown,' He thought, shaking his head as he made his way to the sickroom wherein his wife lay.

Seeing her gladened him. Especially when he saw she looked better than she had last he saw her. Colour had once again returned to her features, and her brown her seemed less a mess than it had been. The room smelt more of roses than blood and sweat now, and there was but one servant who he found conversing with her, on sat on a chair across her.

When the serving girl saw him enter, she stood and bowed to him gently, "My lord."

"My lady," he returned her greeting before turning back to his lady wife.

Jeyne turned to him then too, and her eyes lit up. Indeed, she almost looked well. But he could see the fatigue in her, and his eyes flicked to her not yet visible stomach, "Ignotus... Is that truly you?"

He smiled at her, moving to stand by her side, "Of course. Why would it not be?"

"I heard things... That you were fighting, warring against the king," She said, her voice almost a whisper and with a measure of disbelief.

"I am warring against the king, but I've yet to fight him," He saw the serving maid quietly leave the room at the corner of his eye, "That doesn't matter now. How are you?"

"I'm well, trying. Sometimes there are pains, but the maester gives me brews for when it grows to great," She looked herself over, and he saw the disdain in her eyes before she turned back to him, "But do not change the subject. Why would you endanger yourself in this way?"

"You truly couldn't have expected for me to let this pass," he stared at her, incredulous, "You know what befell one of my brothers. That had been a hard thing to bear, as this had been. There had been no justice then, and there would have been none now. That cannot stand."

"But.. Y-you know what his men do, their cruelty... If you lose -"

"We won't," he assured her, his hand finding hers when he saw the tears brimming, "We'll win. We already are."

"Has there been a battle? You said you haven't fought -"

"I haven't. Your fathers' leading another host of rivermen south of us, and has put Lord Butterwell and Wode to siege after smashing them," he explained and quickly amended when he saw that concern had replaced her tears, "Your brothers are well, you needn't worry Jeyne. Enough about war now. Has the maester told you of our babe?"

"Stop that," She retorted stubbornly, shifting as if to sit up, but he rose to keep her down.

"Enough," he said, his tone firm and apprehending, "I understand your concerns, but it does no one well if you only fill my head with doubt. We will win, they will hang. Let that become the end of it."

Ever strong-willed, she went on as if all fatigue he saw moments ago had never been there, but her voice was still soft, "It never will be the end, even if you win now. They will keep coming back and should they prevail even once... Y-you..."

"They will not," He sighed, realising she would not let this be unless she was appeased, "I'll make sure they don't."

"Will you go to war then, each time they come back for your head?"

"If need be. I won't risk your life by being idle, your father would have my head for it."

His words were met with silence, and he held her dark eyes with his own green ones for a long, almost awkward moment. Then she relaxed onto the bed, and he sat back down. Her gaze was set to the ceiling, and he watched her curiously, mildly put her desire to seemingly have him do nothing because she was concerned for him. Was that was she thought was right?

"Will you be king?"

That question wasn't entirely surprising from her. It seemed the best conclusion to what was to come and the only way it would end in the best way for the Riverlands. But... He had no desire to be king, despite being the leader of this war. All he wanted was to destroy the plague that had been the Ironborn, nothing more. He hadn't started this to win himself a crown.

"I suppose I would have the best claim," he retorted to her contemplatingly, "Though my ancestor renounced his claim to the Kingdom of the Rivers. That may be a point of contention."

"His claim," She turned to him, and she writhed for a bit in obvious pain, and he narrowed his eyes in concern.

"Don't exert yourself too much," He said, and received nought but a stare in return, "Being king would put us in even more danger. Isn't that what you've been advising me against this entire time?"

"I..." He saw her fatigue once more, but there was something else there...Confusion? He could not read her appropriately, but he considered it.

With the return of the title, anyone who was not him that took it may see him as a threat despite his clear disinterest in it. Was that her concern? Was that why she seemingly wanted him to be king?

The other lords, older and more experienced, allowed him to lead the war, despite being him being only nine and ten, but would they follow him into kingship?

It won't matter, he thought, sighing, If we don't win this war.

He would not take on the title before then. If he would take it at all.

"Have you been getting all you need? Eating, sleeping?" He asked her, moving strands of her hair away from her face.

When the door opened behind him, he turned to see Maester Maric standing there, admittedly less grim than he had been last Ignotus was here.

"Lord Teague," He greeted as he walked in, moving close to the bed, "Lady Teague. Have you any more pain?"

"I-I've slept enough -"

"She does, Maester," Ignotus interrupted her deceit, "Though she tries to hide it."

"I've never met a woman a stubborn as her," The Maester japed as he produced a vile, drawing a smile from him and scowl from his wife, "Though I would be glad of it. It's what has pushed her so far, I imagine."

Then Ignotus remembered the maesters prior letter, and asked, "What was this danger you spoke of last?"

There was another silence then, and this one was dismaying because of the nature of his question, and the way in which Jeyne turned from him. The other man paused after a glance from her, before speaking, "I had hoped she would have told you."

"What is it?" He pressed, glancing between them with a frown.

"Last you were here, I had told you that she was with child," The Maester turned to him then, speaking gently, "She is healing well, and I'm certain her recovery may have been swift, if not for the changes that would happen within her as her belly swells. In time, she may have healed enough to have a babe without risk of her health, but seeing as her pregnancy is immediate, it may well undo all the progress she has made. Such a thing, so soon... She will not survive a second time, my lord, if she is to have this child. I know this for fact."

"I will have it, "Only then did she turn to regard him, and he knew not what expression he even conveyed to her in that moment because her strength in the matter almost dwindled entirely before him.

How was a man meant to respond to what was presented to him? The pain of having to make this choice was indescribable to him, and he was not the one who had to make it. He wanted to reach for her again, assure her that he would not protest the choice she had made, but that meant accepting that she would be lost to him for all time, and that was something he could not bring himself to do.

If he had known that it would have amounted to all this, he might have let her leave for Duskendale with half his household guard, but what did it matter now?

His wife was going to die because he had not been careful.

"Are -" He swallowed, doing his best to suppress his grief, for her, if no one else, "Are you sure?"

She nodded without pause, releasing a breath, and then he knew she was lost to him.