Ross entered her brother's solar without knocking, first thing after breakfast that morning. She never would have dreamed of doing the same thing when the room belonged to their father - she would have gotten a switched hand for her lack of manners - but Ned was Ned, not her father. She walked inside, to see Ned stood at his desk, alone, looking more solemn than ever.

"Robert asked you to be Hand of the King?" He nodded tersely, once. "Well I can't say it was a surprise. He spoke of little else to me on the journey north," She looked at him. "Are you going to take it?"

"Catelyn wants me to," His own disagreement went unspoken but Ross caught it anyway.

"If you don't want to go, then don't," She said flatly, sitting down in the chair in front of the desk. "You know better than I do that although Robert will rant and rage all he wants, it'll all be forgiven and forgotten in a moons turn, most likely before he returns south," Ned's silence was acknowledgment enough that he knew she was right.

"He's my oldest friend," Her brother sighed instead. "It's my duty to stand with him, especially after Jon's death," He paused. "That's the other issue. Luwin found this in his tower late last night," He nodded to a carved wooden box. Ross eyed it for a moment before reaching to pick it up, turning to Ned with a questioning look.

"Left in his tower?" She raised an eyebrow. "No courier? No note?"

"Nothing. No one even reported seeing a rider," Ned confirmed. "It must've been someone from the royal party. Luwin brought it to me as soon as he found it, knowing no more than we do. See what you think," Ross carefully lifted the lid, frowning at the contents, a single Myrish lens. Removing the lens and placing it on the desk, for those were valuable, she upturned the box, tapping on the other side. "There's a false bottom,"

"There was a note concealed inside," Ned's expression was grim. "Bearing the Arryn seal. It was from the Lady Lysa, Cat's sister," Ross knew Lysa Arryn all too well, but listened in silence, and he continued. "Written in a secret language they'd made up as children. It said that Jon Arryn was murdered,"

"That's... not impossible," Ross said slowly. His sudden descent from perfect health - for a man his age, anyway - to dead had happened rather quickly, and the Hand of the King was never without enemies. "Did it say who?"

"The Lannisters," Her brother's voice was cold. "The queen," There was a long pause.

"I met Lady Arryn in King's Landing," Ross said eventually. "She's impulsive, soft, weak-willed, easily impressionable and foolish,"

"Don't say that in front of Cat," Ned gave the ghost of a smile, and Ross pulled a face.

"It's true. Her son is six, yet she barely lets him out of her sight - she still suckles the boy," Her expression bespoke her distaste. "And he is the most vile, spoilt child I have ever laid eyes on, save perhaps the crown prince," She thought hard. None of it made sense. "But the woman can't be mad with grief. She had no love at all for her husband, she wouldn't care if he lived or died. But then that raises the question as to why she'd bother writing to Catelyn at all. Perhaps she feels threatened too, and it's self-preservation," She broke, looking at her brother. "You've already made up your mind, haven't you?"

"Even after the letter, I'd much rather avoid that viper's nest of a city," He admitted, turning to glance out the open window. "But it was something Catelyn said... Robert is as good as my brother, and I cannot leave him to the dogs,"

"Catelyn," Ross said, rather sourly. This was another reason why her and her goodsister had never quite been friends. For all her time as Lady of Winterfell, Catelyn still didn't understand the north, and she was far too full of southron ambitions. "Has she forgotten your real brother died in that city? And Father," Her eyes flashed. "I haven't. I was there to watch, and I can still see it in my head as though it was yesterday. Starks don't do well in the south, Ned, you know that,"

"I hadn't forgotten," He said with some bitterness. "For all I dislike Jaime Lannister, he gave the Mad King a quick death. Aerys Targaryen didn't suffer enough for what he did,"

"No," Ross agreed. "He did not," She didn't miss the way Ned looked at her at the mention of Jaime, but he didn't know the half of it. He didn't know about the many times Jaime had held her as she broke down in his arms, her battered, bleeding body aching, unable to rid the feeling of Targaryen hands from her no matter how many baths she took. "I can't stop you going," She shrugged, which was true, even if she'd rather he stayed. "But who goes with you?"

"Cat will stay here," That surprised her. Catelyn must hate that, being left here even after she persuaded her husband to finally go south. "Robb will need her to help him rule in my stead. Bran, Sansa and Arya will come with me. You can too, if you like. Perhaps bring Morganna and the twins?"

"No," She said after thinking for a moment. "I think it would be best if I stayed here. The twins wouldn't want to go, anyway," Morganna would, but she of all of them would definitely not be going; she was the main reason Ross was staying in the North. It would be nice, to spend more time with Ren - and Jaime - but if she went, there would be no reasonable reason for her daughter not to go with her, and she couldn't have that.

"If you're sure,"

"I can always join you later. But Ned," She made sure to look him in the eye. "Be careful,"

"I promise," He smiled faintly.

Ross walked back through the castle with an odd feeling of foreboding hanging over her. She ended up in the Godswood, taking a seat in the roots of the weirwood as she had many times as girl, idly letting her foot hang loose, the toes of her boots rippling the surface of the pool beneath it.

It seemed like everyone was to leave. But this was only the start. Sansa, Arya, Aileen and Morganna would soon be married. Bran and Jon would likely have keeps of their own, she knew of Ned and Benjen's plans to repopulate the New Gift. Edrick would most likely serve his half-brother Domeric in the Dreadfort. Gods knows what would happen to Ren. One day, only Robb would remain in Winterfell. It seemed so certain, so unshakable. Everything could change, though, she knew that well enough. Her own brother Brandon was meant to be Lord of Winterfell, with Catelyn Tully his wife. Lyanna was meant to be the lady of Storm's End. Benjen was meant to stay at home. Ned should have married someone like Barbrey Ryswell. Ross should be a dutiful, honest lady wife with four trueborn children, not two.

For better or worse, things had changed.

"Come on, Ross!" Nine year old Lyanna said impatiently, stopping to wait for her sister, who was older by a year. Ross was never as fast as Lyanna. With her gawky, skinny frame - as tall as her elder brother Ned, but half as broad, for which her siblings laughed at her and called her Spider - she wasn't built for speed. On foot anyway. When she rode, she flew. Lyanna did too.

"I'm coming," Ross frowned, picking her way through the deep snowdrifts. Even under the trees of the godswood, the snowdrifts were thick and deep. The bottom of her dress was soaking wet, and the cold winter chill was blowing right through her despite the many layers of warm clothing she was bundled up in. She didn't mind the cold though. Winter was what she knew. It made her blood race, and her eyes bright. She had been born at the start of a four year winter, and it had been winter now since she was seven. The howling winds, the driving snow, the bitter cold, all of it was what she was used to as a child of winter.

"You're so slow," Lyanna groaned, kicking the snow at her feet. "It's only snow," There was a difference between the sisters. The cold didn't bother Ross, but that didn't mean she wasn't wary of it. She remembered being a little girl watching as a group of weary travellers had staggered into the castle gates. Despite being hardy men of the north, well prepared for the ferocity of winter, they had been caught out in a sudden snowstorm and their fingers, noses, ears and feet were all black and withered with frostbite, and two of the party had later died, unable to get warm even when out of the snow and wrapped up by the fire. Winter was here, and the Starks were prepared, but that didn't mean it wasn't deadly. To Lyanna, on the other hand, it was all just a game. The dangerous, the frightening, the cold, she threw caution to the wind with it all and scorned any who didn't. Ross wondered if she would be better off doing the same, freeing her mind of worries, constraints and pressures like her younger sister, but she never could.

"I'm going to the stables," Ross said. "I said I would help Hullen get a halter on Brown Bess' foal," The young horse was a chestnut filly, very well bred to be a fine courser, but was completely wild, barely allowing anyone near it, much unlike her docile dam. Ross was good with horses; they seemed to respond well to her whispers of the Old Tongue, learnt from an old woman from Wintertown whose mother, rumour had it, had been a Wildling.

"No, stay and fight with me! Or let's go riding," Lyanna pulled a face. "Hullen can do the halter himself. It's boring,"

"For you," Ross changed direction and heading towards the stables.

"Fine," Lyanna stuck her tongue out at her. Ross ignored it, used to her sister's changing moods. She'd forget about it in an hour or so and they'd be best friends again. "But when I can show off how well I fight in front of handsome Southron knights, they'll pay me all the attention, not you,"

"Southron knights don't like women who can fight," Ross smiled. Everyone knew that. "No men do. They want to be the big, strong ones protecting their gentle lady,"

"I will protect myself!" Lyanna claimed boldly, stick in the air like a victory sword.

"With what?" Ross laughed. "A crooked twig?" With that she turned and left.

Ross smiled somewhat sadly. Her little sister was one of a kind. There had only been a year between them, but Ross had always felt so much older. Lyanna had been full of dreams, full of desires. She had wanted the world and was confused when she couldn't get it, but never stopped trying. Ross had always been too realistic for anything like that, a child decades older than her age even before Aerys had destroyed any hint of idealistic notions she may have had. Her father had often sighed wearily after dealing with the troublesome Lyanna, and called Ross his only sane daughter. Even though she wasn't as beautiful, she was the one everyone expected to make a nice sensible marriage to a good northern husband, act as a dutiful daughter should, unlike her rebellious sister. The world didn't work like that, though. No one would have expected that Ross be the one to return home in disgrace with a bastard son. If only they knew the truth about Morganna. Her father would be turning in his grave. Lyanna would've forced the truth from her, somehow, then told Brandon, who would've gone and removed Jaime Lannister's head. Aerys' too, had Jaime not managed to do it himself. Ned respected her and her privacy too much to force any more answers from her about her treatment at Aerys' hands, and Benjen had followed his example and never spoken of it. It was better that way. The Mad King was dead, telling them more would achieve nothing.

Ross thought back to how envious of Lyanna she had been as a girl. They had nearly always been with each other, galloping recklessly through the Wolfswood more often than not, though Ross had always been jealous. She wished she could charm those who talked to her like her confident sister could. She wished she could be as beautiful as Lyanna. She wished she could be as bold, not doing anything she didn't want to and defying anyone who tried to say otherwise. She'd stopped being jealous when she realised that if she had been Lyanna in Aerys' court, she would've died long ago. Keeping her head down whilst burning anger festered inside was the only thing that kept her alive there. That and Jaime. She bit back at a laugh at the thought of Jaime facing her sister instead of her all those years ago, then realised that Cersei was all those things Lyanna was too; charming, beautiful, bold, defiant. How he had gone from his stunning sister to her, she didn't know.

She returned to the castle after who knows how long. It was easy to lose track of time in the godswood.

"Mother!" She started slightly as Morganna came hurrying around the corner. Her daughter was out of breath slightly, and grinning widely. "You'll never guess what just happened,"

"What is it?" She grabbed the girl's arm. Anything Morganna was this excited about couldn't be good. She had a habit of not taking things seriously that really should have been.

"Edrick beat up that stuck up Prince Joffrey," Her daughter crowed proudly. Ross felt like cursing. Joffrey was an arse, and surely deserved it, but this was more trouble than it was worth.

"Gods sake," She turned around in a whirl of dark skirts, not letting go of Morganna's arm, tugging her daughter along at her fast walk. "Why? No, how badly?" She didn't need to ask who had come out worse in that fight.

"Oh, he's fine, though he wailed enough that you'd think Edrick flayed his face instead of just punching it," You're not a Bolton, don't talk like one. Morganna rolled her eyes, clearly thinking Ross was overreacting, trying to tug her arm free but giving up after testing her mother's iron grip. "Some scrapes and bruises, a black eye and a split lip, if that. It's not like Edrick knocked his teeth out, though he should have done," Her youngest daughter tossed her hair defiantly. "He insulted Robb, then called you a whore in front of the whole yard," Ross gave a dry laugh.

"I could tell him things about his mother that would make his ears shrivel up,"

"Like what?" Morganna asked innocently, and Ross gave her a look. She laughed. "It was worth a try," She paused. "Oh, and Ren fought the Hound,"

"He what?"

"After Edrick hit him, Joffrey ordered him to take his head," Morganna chattered away as though she was speaking of the weather. "Ren held him off until the king and Uncle Ned arrived,"

Ross was silent. There wasn't much to say to that. Even Morganna seemed to pick up on her black mood, and fell silent too. Servants and guards alike hastened to move out of her way as she swept through the halls, and the Winterfell guards outside her son's door opened it wordlessly upon seeing her face, closing it behind her. Morganna waited outside. Edrick stood when she entered, proud and wild as ever, as tall as she was, fiery and ready to argue. But one look from his mother made him falter like he was only a little boy again, and he sat down on his bed with a glower. Ross never raised her voice to any of her children, but she'd been assured that her low, harsh tone was terrifying enough. She disliked children as a rule; her own, her brother's and Domeric Bolton were the exceptions. Most children tended to find her frightening even if she wasn't angry; Tommen Baratheon hadn't been able to meet her eyes for more than a second when Ren had introduced them back in King's Landing.

"What in hells name were you thinking?" She asked her son lowly.

"Didn't Morganna tell you what he said?" His eyes flashed, reminding her too much of Brandon. "He called you a whore in front of the whole yard! This was after he already insulted Robb, Jon and Ren," He began to pace, clearly not any less angry at the prince, even over an hour later. "You understand, don't you? Surely you hate him as much as I do?"

"I understand you wanting to beat him," She agreed, in the same tone. "I understand you wanting to hurt him. What I don't understand is why you were so incredibly stupid as to actually do it," He opened his mouth, but she cut him off sharply. "I have no doubts that he deserved it. If it was my decision, I'd have left you to it and walk away scot free. But it's not up to me," He fell into a sullen silence. "Best hope I can persuade Cersei Lannister not to take your right hand for daring to use it on her precious little prince,"

"She wouldn't actually - "

"Probably not," Ross ignored the cynicism. "But there will be a punishment. I'll try and make it as mild as I can, but don't expect much," She went to leave, but paused at the door. "Oh, and Edrick?" He looked up. "Thank you. But if you try to kill everyone who calls me a whore, you'll be more infamous than the Smiling Knight. And your grandmother would have to be first on the list," He gave a choked sort of laugh, but she was already gone.


"You," Cersei swept towards her, eyes alive with cold fury. Ross stood her ground. She had just left Ned and Catelyn, whilst there was no sign of Robert. "Are you aware your son attacked the heir to the Iron Throne not two hours ago?" To Ross, it seemed like it would be far easier to go with the queen rather than against her, letting her think she was getting what she wanted rather than opposing her directly.

"I have dealt with Edrick," She looked down at the queen. She was two inches taller than Cersei, much to her satisfaction now. "He is now under no doubt whatsoever as to the severity of his actions, and will offer a personal apology to the prince as soon as Joffrey wishes to receive him," As soon as Joffrey stops threatening to see his head on the battlements, she meant. Anticipating Cersei's angry retort, she quickly continued. "As further punishment, my son will remain confined to his rooms for the remainder of the royal visit. He will take his meals there, and be forbidden all non-essential visitors, including his cousins and siblings. I assure you, for a boy like Edrick, being confined to his rooms is the worst punishment I could give. He'd just shrug off a beating," Cersei glared, still angry but looked at least slightly mollified.

"And what of the marks he left on the prince?"

"I can show you Edrick's hands if it pleases you," Ross didn't miss a beat. "I am not above using a switch on my children to punish foolish misbehaviour," If only you had used one on Joffrey. Cersei's eyes shone with vindictive satisfaction at that, and Ross knew she had won. The queen would hardly ask to see her son's hands if Rosennis Stark had claimed to have caned him herself. She hadn't, of course. Joffrey deserved what he got. Edrick would, however, be staying confined in his rooms. There was no way around that.

"See that the boy troubles my son no further," A clear threat. Ross nodded sharply.

"Your grace," The queen swept from the room, presumably back to her son, who was no doubt milking his minor injuries for all they were worth.


Ross' way back took her through the quiet part of the castle, then past the washhouse, built over the hottest part of the hot springs under the castle. Women walked in and out through the steaming door where the hot air met the cold outside, carrying huge baskets of linens and various garments. But there was a man there too, Ross noticed, talking to a girl. No, not a man she realised. Her son, talking to Lizzie Lewis. Ross didn't miss the envious looks many of the younger girls were giving Lizzie, nor did she miss how Lizzie rested her hand on Ren's arm as she laughed. Ross got close enough to hear their conversation.

"You could be a handmaid," Ren was saying, Ross' own smile playing at his lips. He smiled like Jaime when he was trying, and like her when he wasn't.

"Who to?" Lizzie laughed. "The girls are too young aren't they, and as for your mother..." She trailed off. "I don't think she wants one," Ren laughed.

"Sansa's eleven," He pointed out. "It wouldn't be unusual, especially in the South," Lizzie considered this, unsure. "It's that, the kitchens, the washhouse, or a brothel - "

"You talk to Lady Sansa about me being her maid," Lizzie said decisively, and Ren grinned. "What do I have to do?"

"Don't ask me," He shrugged. "The handmaids in King's Landing are always talking about dresses and hair,"

"And what do you know about the handmaids in King's Landing, Snow?" The girl was smirking.

"Too much," Ren said flatly, and she laughed, shaking her head and going in to kiss him, but Ren had spotted Ross and moved an arm out to stop her. "Mother," Lizzie immediately shrank back, looking a little apprehensive but trying to hide it by ducking her head.

"Pardons, milord, milady," She muttered, giving a clumsy curtsey before gathering up her basket of bedlinen. Ross watched her go, then turned to her son.

"You're bringing her south," It wasn't a question.

"I am," He said. She raised an eyebrow.

"Do I want to know why?"

"Lizzie has been my friend for years," He glared at her a little. "So I'm getting her a good position in the household. Better than being a kitchen wench her whole life,"

"Not the one she wants," Ross muttered. No, that's underneath you. It was Ren's turn to raise an eyebrow, and she smiled slightly apologetically. "Sansa will need a handmaid when they all leave. I'll add your friend," She gave a pointed look. "To the accounts,"

"You're not going back south?" He paused at her sharp look; manners. "Thank you, Mother. But why?" His eyes were narrowed in suspicion.

"I have spent enough time in the Red Keep to last a lifetime," That was true enough. "But enough of that. I hear you fought the Hound," His lips curled into a wry smile.

"I was hoping to avoid you long enough that you've already spoken to Edrick?"

"Yes," She folded her arms. "But don't think by any means that I've exhausted myself," He just laughed, the insolent boy.

"You say that like it was my fault,"


Several days after the memorable incident between Edrick and Joffrey, Ross could be found - not exactly unusually - in the stables, saddling her young horse for a ride. Both her daughters were going with her, and she had, as usual, refused Ned's offer of a guard with the fair excuse she always used; they wouldn't be able to keep up. Morganna rode a rather stocky dun horse from the Winterfell stables as her own had thrown a shoe, whilst Aileen was on her usual grey. The girls' hardy mounts were rather more suitable for riding in the Wolfswood than Ross' own, who was long and slender of leg, skittish and not quite as well-balanced with a rider yet as it could be. Hopefully today would help change that. Or send them both crashing to the floor in a mass of broken limbs after tripping over a root.

No such incident occurred, however, and the further away they got from the crowded castle and the king's men, the more Ross relaxed. Winterfell was large, but so was the number of people staying there. She disliked having eyes everywhere. Even when she wasn't doing something she shouldn't, it discomforted her to constantly have others around, particularly in her home. The freedom of unlimited space, largely uninhabited once they were past the land directly around Winterfell, was a wonderful thing. Her mare was wild at first, but after a good long gallop - after which she had to wait for the girls to catch up on their heavier horses - and several flying bucks, she had calmed to merely frisky. The riding was good around the Dreadfort - with wide, open moorland, the striking gorge of the Weeping Water or even going up to the Lonely Hills if she wanted a long ride - but it wasn't quite like galloping through the Wolfswood like she had done throughout her childhood.

It was an hour or so into the ride that Morganna trotted up beside her, with a look in her grey eyes that promised Ross wouldn't like what she had to say.

"Mother," Ross could tell from her tone alone that she was building up to asking a favour. "You know I've been spending lots of time with Princess Myrcella recently?" In the days since the fight, the children had been under stricter rules, meaning Morganna had had to attend her lessons and entertain the princess and other ladies. Somehow, the two had taken a shine to each other. It was an odd pairing if ever Ross saw one. She had barely spent any time with Myrcella, but from what she could tell the girl was a perfect lady, dainty, courteous and charming, but with little else going on inside that pretty blonde head. Much like Sansa; Ross would've thought the two would get along well. That they had, but somehow her daughter - irreverent, downright sly and often rude with that sharp tongue of hers - had managed to become the princess' favourite. Which was worrying. The longer the two girls spent together, the more likely it was that someone would notice they looked alike. Ross had tried keeping them apart as much as possible, but there was only so much she could do without making people suspicious.

"Yes," She said neutrally, but wary inside. Aileen too had looked up, but not in interest; she clearly knew what this was already. Ross raised an eyebrow at her but she only shook her head slightly, so turned back to Morganna. "Why?"

"Well a few days ago, we were talking about marriages," Morganna somehow said with a straight face. Ross' eyebrow climbed even higher. The girl had never shown an interest in a husband her life. In boys, yes, that was one of the few things she had come across her daughter talking about with Sansa given how uninterested Aileen and Arya were, but marriage? Definitely not. "Cella said that in King's Landing it's much easier to find a husband than here in the north,"

"Easier to find a southron husband," Ross said pointedly. "Your father would not allow that,"

"Well, yes," Morganna shrugged casually, but Ross could almost see the whirring in her head, changing tactics fast. "It's not like I'm looking for one. But there's a lot more going on in the south, she said. It must be exciting to live there - "

"If you want to go to King's Landing, why don't you just ask?" Ross looked at her daughter warningly.

"Because I know what the answer will be," She grinned, unperturbed. "I was just testing the waters,"

"If you already know, why bother?" Ross frowned - it wasn't like she was known for ever going back on what she'd already refused, particularly with her children - then she saw Aileen's rather strained expression. Oh, of course. A nasty feeling gripped her stomach, and her tone was steely cold when she spoke next. "I'm not the first person you asked, am I?"

"You're the first person I've asked, technically," Morganna had the decency to look at least a little sheepish at that, but the grin never went away. "But Myrcella went to the queen yesterday. She's going to ask you officially tonight, for me to be one of Myrcella's companions in King's Landing. It's a great honour," She added, rather hopefully. They were too far away to be back at Winterfell any longer than an hour before the evening meal started, even if Ross pushed herself and the horses. That was a deliberate move, so she couldn't rush back and attempt to stop the offer being made publicly.

Ross loved all her children, and always would. However sometimes, she did not like them.

The little harridan thought that Ross could not and would not refuse the queen's explicit, public offer. In any other circumstances, she couldn't have been more wrong; Ross did not care for insulting Cersei, nor for embarrassing her daughter for being a wilful little fool. And she wanted nothing more than to keep her away from King's Landing and the Lannisters for her whole life. Morganna had asked to go with her to the city before, to see Ren, and she had always refused. Being there for any amount of time was a risk. Anyone, anytime may eventually make the connection between how alike her daughter looked to the princess and queen, to Ser Jaime of the Kingsguard, and that's when rumours started. In which case, they shouldn't even bother returning north, for her husband would see them both dead, and possibly Ren too for good measure.

But the sinking realisation was coming to her. Ross realised that she had to let Morganna go. The invitation was indeed an honour, for any girl, and refusing it would spark too many questions. Refusing made it look like she had something to hide. Gossip was dangerous, especially when people started speculating amongst themselves, and the last thing she wanted was for gossip about her daughter regarding Princess Myrcella. Her husband would be suspicious too, as to why she hadn't let Morganna go when she clearly wanted to, and if he started investigating they were both as good as dead again.

She couldn't win, it was a choice of the lesser of two evils. She would have to let the blasted girl have her way, even though whatever she did would likely mean the downfall them all.

"You have no idea what you've done," She said coldly to her daughter, her temper rising when the girl failed to look anything less than pleased with herself.

Ross said absolutely nothing else for the remainder of the ride. Any attempts Morganna made at conversation were ignored, and her icy stare was like to freeze the path ahead of them. Unfortunately, her daughter was one of only a few people who didn't seem put off by that stare, and it took longer than she'd hoped - and only after Aileen muttered something in her ear - for the girl to get the hint and stop talking. They rode through the gates of Winterfell in a heavy silence. She felt ill.

After dismounting, Aileen and Morganna followed her to the stables - Morganna had gone to give her reins to a groom, but a glare from her mother had made her reconsider - and Ross stood before her daughter. The girl would probably end up as tall as she was, but for now she was eleven, a child. Just a child, gods, I can't send her off into that snake's pit. I can't leave her there, not like I was left. She doesn't know what she's walking into, stupid, stupid, reckless girl. Ross hadn't been this angry in what seemed like years, so furious she could barely speak.

"Aileen," She muttered tersely, and the girl nodded, leaving quickly. She turned to her younger daughter. "Hold out your hand," Her voice was cold, deadly serious, and Morganna looked at her incredulously.

"Mother, I'm not six - " One raised eyebrow made her cut off, and, scowling, the girl held out her palm. Ross brought her own down upon it in a stinging slap. Morganna didn't wince, meeting her eyes fiercely. She grabbed both her daughter's wrists, holding them tightly in front of her.

"Don't think you're clever for doing this," She said in that same hard, furious tone. "Or that you've won, by any means. I might have lost, but you haven't won either,"

"Why are you worrying so much?" Morganna was angry herself, struggling to snatch her wrists back but Ross held them tight. "It's not like when you were there. There's no war. No Targaryens. No Mad King. You're being paranoid," For a moment - one very brief moment - Ross considered telling her daughter exactly why she didn't want her going south, just to see the look on her face.

"You have no idea," She said lowly instead. "No idea what that place is like. It is evil to the core, no matter who sits the Iron Throne. I am well aware you think I am being unreasonable, that you believe you're old enough to deal with whatever life throws your way. Perhaps you are, you're hardly Sansa. Shall we find out? I thought the same as you once, yet I can also tell you exactly how and when Aerys Targaryen raped me, if you like?" Her daughter's face blanched; she had never told her that before. Ren knew, surely, but she doubted even the twins did. "No? Did you think I was treated as a noble guest, by the madman that burned your grandfather with wildfire?" Morganna's mouth was pressed into a line, all traces of smiles gone.

"I - I didn't know," She muttered. "Did - didn't anyone do anything?" Ross looked her straight in the eye.

"The Kingsguard stood outside and guarded the door," She said bluntly. The girl's eyes widened, in shock then in anger, but Ross was done. "That is what that place is like. People do terrible things, and hide behind noble reasons. It flourished under Aerys, but don't by any means think it's gone away. Go south if you like, you made well sure I can do nothing to stop it. But don't ever ask me again why I worry," With that, she turned on her heel and left, skirts sweeping along the dirty floor, not looking back at her daughter.

It wasn't a lie, she told herself. She was worried about the nature of the people in the city, yes, but there were people like that everywhere. Ideally, she wouldn't have really even wanted Aileen going south, for the reasons she had listed to Morganna, but wouldn't have stopped her if she wanted to go, and her younger sister wasn't an issue. Things were different to when Aerys was alive. The core was still rotten, dangerous, but that was safer than the days when the king got hard from burning people alive. And Ned would be there, and half the household guard. She blinked back the tears forming in her eyes, which never fell. Hopefully that speech would have disturbed Morganna into being on her guard, not that that would be enough. All she could hope was that people would be too caught up in themselves, and not looking for the secret cousin of the royal children, to notice. Or that Ned would get sick of doing Robert's job for him and return north in several months before anything dreadful happened.

"Ross?" She hadn't realised she had been making her way to the lord's solar. The door was open, and he saw her there. "Are you alright?"

"Morganna's going south," Her voice was hollow. She came in, sitting down in the chair in front of his desk without invitation.

"Since when?"

"Since she got her little princess to ask the queen if Morganna could be another of her companions,"

"She didn't ask you first?" Her brother frowned.

"She knew I'd say no," Ross felt the tears rising again and furiously blinked; what was wrong with her? She never cried, not throughout the entire rebellion, not until the day Ned brought Lyanna's bones through the city gates.

"Whilst she shouldn't have been so wilful," He started slowly. "Would it be such a bad thing?"

"Don't you remember what happened to me in that city?" That sounded empty and unreasonable even to her own ears. Ned raised an eyebrow but didn't push that point.

"You can refuse the queen," He suggested. "You were staying just the other day that I could refuse Robert, and this isn't nearly such an insult," She just shook her head, not trusting herself to speak, and he eyed her with growing concern. "You're not worried about offending Cersei Lannister, are you?" He sounded slightly incredulous.

"I couldn't give two shits," Ross snorted. "I just - " Her voice caught. "I just can't say no," Before she knew it, tears were falling down her cheeks, much to her embarrassment, and Ned had risen hastily from his chair, moving over to her and placing an arm around her shoulder. "She's going to die," She mumbled before she could stop it spilling from her lips. "She's going to die, Ned,"

"Why would she die?" He frowned. "Ross, you're not thinking straight. Robert is king. I'm his Hand. Half the Stark household guard will be there. She'll be with my children, as safe as she is here,"

"She's going to die," Was all she could choke out. "And me, when he finds out," Stop talking, her mind screamed, and she did, settling for shaking with silent sobs, but it was too late.

"When who - " He broke off, and she could almost hear the wheels turning in his head. There was a pause, and she knew he'd got it when he stepped back, removing his arm. "Ross, please tell me this isn't what I think," He must've already had suspicions, if he worked it out that quickly.

"What do you want me to say?" She shook her head. "Don't make me lie to you, Ned, not you too,"

"I knew about Ren," He said, voice and expression stony. "I had wondered from that first day after Robert took the throne. You told me he wasn't Aerys', and I believed you. Of course that left the question of whose was he. I considered the Kingslayer, I'd be a fool not to," She almost flinched to hear him say it out loud. "But it could have been anyone. Then there was Riverrun. I didn't see you together at all then, but I didn't see much of you, either. Morganna was born shortly after that tourney, wasn't she," It wasn't a question. For once, she couldn't read her brother's tone. He could have been judgemental, concerned, angry or indifferent for all she knew.

"Again, what do you want me to say?" Her tears had stopped now, and she got to her feet to face him. "Do you want me to tell you how I fucked Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer you despise so much, not just once to make Ren, but over a hundred times in King's Landing. And again, when I next saw him at Riverrun. One of those made Morganna," He gave a sharp inhale, and she stopped, half in shock at what she'd said, half resigned. He knew anyway. "He doesn't know about Morganna, you know," She continued. "As far as he's concerned, she's as Bolton as the twins. Though he's probably worked it out by now too, if you fucking have," She looked at him sharply. "As far as you're concerned, she's as Bolton as the twins, unless you want to be sent back my flayed skin made into a cloak,"

"You think I'd tell the world?" Ned looked angry now. "Have you so little trust in my loyalty to my family?"

"I have no idea," She said, a little sardonically. "I've never told you the Kingslayer, who you hate, fathered two of my children before," There was a pause. "How did you know about Ren?"

"It's not that obvious," He said. "It was when he took him on as a squire. The day before we left, I saw them fighting together. They didn't - and don't - look especially alike, but alike enough for me at least to see it. I saw you in his features, but I also saw his. I saw Lannister around his previous squire too, at Pyke. Disinterested, that was the only word I'd use to describe his attitude towards the boy. With Ren it was clearly different, even then," Her brother sighed. "I never fully accepted it until the other day, though. There had always been a chance I was wrong before. But when they stood side by side like that in the yard, I couldn't deny it any more," He gave her a hard look. "Ross, why him?" His question caught her off guard.

"What?" She blinked incredulously, having been analysing what he was saying to work out if anyone else might be able to see the truth too.

"Why him?" He repeated. "Of all people,"

"Why does that matter?" She gave him an odd look.

"I can understand Ren," He said. "I'd be a hypocrite not to," In all fairness, he'd stopped asking her about the father of her son years before now, given she'd stopped asking about Jon's mother. "But why go back to him years later? You're married. Like you said, it's a risk. Why bother?"

"You think I'm in it for his pretty face?" Ross almost snarled.

"No," He glowered. "Don't put words in my mouth,"

"It was implied," She glared. "You want to know why I went back to him at Riverrun? Because I'd spent the last three years missing him," She was rarely so honest, even with herself. "I enjoyed breaking my vows. My marriage isn't like yours and Catelyn's, Ned. Typically, it's cold and indifferent. At best, we amuse each other. At worst, we've threatened to kill each other," She nearly had, and she often wondered how many plots Bolton had come up with to remove her that he hadn't put into action, or changed his mind about. "But ultimately, neither of us would care if the other lived or died. Wouldn't you want something more than that?"

"Are you saying the Kingslayer actually cares - " Her brother stopped talking at the icy look she gave him. "Are you saying you care?"

"I do have it in me," She gave a hollow laugh.

"I just..." He seemed lost for words. "I can't think of two more different people,"

"I disliked him at first, arrogant and rude as he was. He thought I was dull. We bonded over a hatred of Aerys Targaryen and a liking for sarcasm," She remembered thinking the first burnings were awful, not knowing that the worst was yet to come. "We're different, but more similar than you'd think. But that's not the problem," They'd got too caught up in this. "The problem is that my daughter, who looks far too similar to Princess Myrcella, is going south to be by her side every day,"

"You can't do anything," He said simply. "She has to come with us now. If we're lucky, no one will notice. It's not that easy to see if you don't know - she's different enough that it's not blindingly obvious - and who would think to suspect?" Ross still felt sick with worry. That was the only thing keeping the horror of her brother knowing near everything at bay. He was right though, she couldn't do anything without making it all even worse.

"We're late for dinner," She noted distantly. Ned shrugged.

"Robert won't mind,"

"Catelyn will want to know where you've been,"

"I won't tell her," He sighed. "I told you to trust me," She just got to her feet and left through the door he held open for her.