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Chapter fourteen: The Reynes of Castamere

Lenora

She shifted in her saddle, it had been a long day of riding and as much as she loved riding she had never ridden this hard or for this long. Robb was sympathetic, at least, not that Lenora particularly wanted his sympathy.

The first week as they traveled south they had been near castles. They had stayed at one northern lord's home or another. This was their first night setting camp. She had ridden at the front of the army with Robb, but the young man hadn't said a word to her all day. "Let me help you," those were his first words to her as he moved around his horse so that he could lift her down from hers.

"I am fine," she told him, her body tensing as she felt Robb's hands settle on her hips. "Really."

Robb looked up at her with his clear blue eyes, studying her. With his gaze on her so intensely he didn't miss the grimace on her face as she shifted in the saddle again. "I can see that," he told her as he began to lift her down from the horse.

Lenora gasped at the easy way Robb placed his hands on her and placed her own on his shoulders to steady herself as he lifted her down. Once she was on the ground he left his hands on her hips, holding her in place. "You'll be sore," he told her, it wasn't a question. "I'll have someone draw you a bath in your tent. There aren't much for women on this march, but Lord Cerwyn brought his daughter to cook for him," he scoffed at some inside joke at that. "I'm sure she will be happier to serve you than him. I'll send for her."

"My tent?" Lenora asked, raising her eyebrows. "I get my own tent?"

"Would you like to share mine, Princess?" he asked, chuckling.

Lenora shook her head, "I wouldn't like to, I just, I assumed."

"I haven't decided what I want to do with you yet," Robb told her. "Until then, you'll have your own tent."

Lenora was not going to argue with him. She nodded, "Thank you, Robb," she told him, glancing down pointedly at his hands that still rested on her hips.

He left them there, flexing his fingers slightly as if to tell her he would let go of her when he wanted to and not a moment before. "You will eat supper in my tent," he told her. "Your guard will bring you to me once you've bathed."

And there it was, Lenora realized. She was to have her own tent, that illusion of freedom that Robb loved to give her. But she would eat with him when he commanded, be where he wanted her, and be guarded by one of his men at all times. He wanted her to fight it, she could tell. And she wanted nothing more than to disappoint him. So instead of fighting she nodded, "I should get to it, then. Which one will be my tent?"

Robb finally let go of her waist and turned slightly, nodding toward a man behind him. She didn't know his name, but she recognized him, one of Bolton's men. "Ser Willum will show you to your tent and make sure that no harm will come to you."

Lenora chuckled at that, "What a nice way to say I will be his prisoner."

Robb's blue eyes were light and playful, "You keep saying prisoner," he told her, shaking his head, "and I keep telling you that you are my guest."

"You guest who cannot leave and must be guarded at all times?"

"The guard is more for your safety than to keep you here," Robb told her, his playfulness gone almost immediately. "A camp is no place for a lady." He watched her for a moment, his face tense before his eyes softened, "Do not fight me on this, Nora," he begged her in a whisper, "please."

Lenora watched him for just a moment before she sighed and nodded. "I won't fight you on this today," she told him. "But there are no promises for the future."

Robb nodded and stepped aside for her. She bit back a smile and moved around him, her gaze finally falling on the knight who was to be her jailer. "Well met, Ser Willum," she told him with a nod. "Let's go." She started to walk, but stopped after a few steps, the knight was too close to her. "Have you ever guarded a lady, Ser Willum?" the young knight shook his head. "You don't walk beside her," Lenora told him. "You walk behind her or in front of her. Not beside."

The man's eyes were wide as he nodded and took a few steps back. She heard Robb laugh behind her. "Stick with this one, Ser Willum, and she'll have you trained as well as the Kingslayer in a fortnight."

Her tent was warm and inviting, much nicer than Lenora had expected, what with them being at war. The ceiling was high, the walls made of bolts of dark red fabric - she wondered if that had been a conscious choice on Robb's part, to make her homesick. There was a a table, more candles than she could count, her trunks. The ground was covered with thick rugs to keep the cold of the earth beneath from reaching her. There was a large, feather bed, several small couches, and at the back of the tent, hidden behind an almost sheer curtain, a bath

"I will wait outside, My Lady," Ser Willum told her. "I won't leave, so if you need me do not hesitate."

It sounded like a comfort, that he would be there for her if she needed him. But Lenora saw it for what it really was - a threat. She shouldn't think of wandering or trying to leave her tent without him. Robb said that he was there to protect her, and she had no doubt that he was, but he was also there to ensure that she did not grab her horse and ride south to her family.

She nodded to him and turned away from the doorway of her tent as he left. She walked through the tent and smiled when she noted that the bath had already been filled with warm water. Robb had really thought of everything. She heard the tent open again and she turned to see an older woman walk into the tent.

"You must be, Lord Cerwyn's daughter," she told the woman with a soft smile and a gentle nod.

"Mariya, if it pleases you, your grace."

Lenora smiled ruefully, "My father and my mother are your grace," she told the woman. Then she shook her head, "My brother is now your grace, I am just a princess."

"I wouldn't ever use the word just to describe being a princess, My Lady."

Lenora smiled and nodded, "You are right about that, I suppose, Lady Mariya." She turned to study the woman again. She wasn't too old, just a few years older than Lenora herself. She was plump without being fat, and quite pretty. She imagined that her father had not brought her with him to cook for him. And he had not brought her with him to serve Lenora. He had probably brought her along in the hopes that his daughter would find her way into Robb's bed before long.

She wondered if the girl knew her father's plans for her. If she did, if she hoped for it, Lenora wished her luck. She'd rather the girl end up in Robb's bed than herself.

"Have you ever served as a lady's maid?" Lenora asked her.

Mariya nodded, "Yes, My Lady, when I was younger than you are now, my father sent me to live with the Boltons. I was a lady's maid to Lord Bolton's first wife."

"Surrounded by Boltons," Lenora muttered to herself. Her guard was one of Roose Bolton's knights, her lady's maid had spent many years at the Dreadfort.

"What did you say, My Lady?" Mariya asked, moving closer to her.

Lenora forced a smile onto her lips, "Nothing," she told the woman with an encouraging nod. "It was a long ride today and I would like to bathe."

Mariya nodded and walked behind Lenora. Her hands shook as she quickly untied the laces on the back of Lenora's dress. Lenora rolled her eyes as she stepped out of the dress and the woman started to untie her corset, her hands still shaking. If she didn't get used to being around a princess soon enough Lenora would ask Robb to dismiss her from her service, corsets be damned. Once she was undressed she stepped into the tub with the help of woman.

Mariya poured water over her hair. She rubbed soap through it and rinsed it out again. And as she began to carefully run a brush through Lenora's waist length brown hair Lenora set about washing her body with the soap. Her bath did not take long, but it seemed like a waste to leave the tub while the water was still warm. So Lenora stayed. She was still in the tub an hour later when her guard entered the tent to escort her to Robb's tent for supper.

"My Lady!" He all but yelled as he spun around, to look back toward the door and covered his eyes. "I did not mean! I had thought that you would be dressing by now."

"Dressing?" Lenora asked as she stood up in the tub. Mariya helped her out and wrapped a towel around her so that she could dry her skin while the lady found her a new chemise, her corset, and a clean dress. "You meant to walk in on me while I was dressing, Ser Willum?"

The knight shook his head, "Dressed," he corrected, "I thought you would be dressed by now. Lord Stark told me I was to bring you to his tent for supper once you were bathed. I did not want to keep him waiting."

Lenora bristled at that, "Lord Stark is the son of a traitor. I am a princess and the sister of the king. I will keep him waiting if it pleases me."

"As you wish, Princess," the knight told her, bowing his apology though he still did not turn to look at her, too afraid of offending her more than he already had.

Mariya quickly dressed her and braided her damp hair in a single braid running down her spine. "I daresay you are ready, My Lady," Mariya told her, nodding and stepping away from her.

Lenora smiled her thanks and turned to look at Ser Willum's back. "Very well, Ser Willum," she told the knight "You may bring me to Lord Stark's tent now."

"Thank you, My Lady," the man told her gratefully, he strode to the door of the tent and held the flaps open for her to pass through before him. Lenora noticed with a hint of satisfaction that on their way across the camp toward Robb's tent the knight walked three steps behind her. Maybe the man wouldn't be so stupid to have around after all.

Robb looked up from a map laid out on his table when she walked in. His tent was larger than hers, it needed to be, the bulk of his planning would occur in her with his bannermen, but the furnishings in her tent were much nicer. "You sure know how to keep a man waiting," Robb commented as he moved away from his map and walked closer to her. Ser Willum started to make an excuse from the doorway of the tent, but Robb held his hand up for silence, "I know the Lady, Ser Willum," he told the knight. "She will have purposefully kept me waiting just to spite me. I do not hold you at fault for that."

Lenora smiled at him as he dismissed the knight. Once she was sure they were alone she said, "My tent is much nicer than yours."

"Well you are a princess," Robb pointed out, echoing the words she had told the knight in her tent not long before. "I am a mere lord. Of course your tent will be better." He gestured toward another table that she had not noticed when she had first walked into his tent, this one had food laid on it, enough to feed a large group, though there were only two plates and goblets. She and Robb would be dining alone, it seemed. "Have a seat, My Lady, I am sure you are hungry after today's ride."

He pulled out a chair for her and Lenora sat down in it, her spine stiff and straight as he pushed the chair closer to the table for her. He served her wine. Loaded her plate with food. And waited until she had taken a bite before he filled his own plate. It was a mix of intimate and proper at the same time. Lenora watched him for a moment, her lips pursed, waiting for him to reveal why he had wanted to eat his supper with her. She was sure that he had more pressing moments with his bannermen, they were marching to war after all.

"You do know that we're at war," she pointed out, cutting a piece of meat. "Don't you, Lord Stark?"

"When we're alone you can call me, Robb," the man pointed out. He chuckled and shook his head, "I'm honestly surprised that you don't call me Robb in front of the men too."

"Why would I?" Lenora asked him, looking up at him sharply. "I must not be the only one who is aware of the fact that many of your bannermen would see me dead sooner than they would bow down to my brother. Seeing as I am not allowed a sword, you are what's keeping me alive now. It would be a fool's errand to mock you in front of your men while you're still so unproven."

Robb chuckled, "Your uncle Kingslayer taught you the ways of soldiers, did he?" he asked. "I'm not surprised."

"My uncle Jaime taught me how to lead soldiers," Lenora told him, emphasizing her words carefully. She was quiet for a minute, "Now, I'll ask you again, Robb, you do know that we're at war?"

"I don't want a war," Robb told her, his voice and eyes surprisingly honest. "I just want my father and sisters back."

Lenora nodded. "Well, my brother is not going to give them up without a fight. So, whatever you wanted you have a war. And the two people you are most likely to meet on the battlefield, my uncle and grandfather have a lot more experience at war than you do." Robb scoffed at that and despite herself Lenora found herself hoping that he was trying to seem brave, not that he was stupid enough to think that he could hold his own against them. She leaned closer to him, "Have you heard of the Reynes of Castamere?" she asked him, her voice quiet.

"The Lannister song?" Robb asked her, unimpressed. "Yes, I've heard it. Some of your mother's men got drunk and sang it at Winterfell when your family was there."

"No," Lenora told him, "Not the Rains of Castamere, the Reynes." From the look on his face Lenora could tell that the young man across the table from her did not understand the distinction. She sighed, "How do you not know this story?" she asked him with a chuckle. "My siblings and I all knew this story by our fifth name day."

"You're Lannisters," Robb pointed out.

"And there were once Reynes," Lenora told him. "House Reyne of Castamere. Their sigil was a lion, a red one. Two cats, two different coats. Castamere was a mine, much like Casterly Rock and Lord Reyne was one of my great grandfather's bannermen. He perceived Tytos, my great grandfather, to be weak and his house rebelled against him. Tytos was too old, too frail to put down this rebellion so he sent his son against them."

"Tywin Lannister," Robb interrupted.

Lenora nodded, "Just so." She was quiet for a moment, "And unlike his father, Grandfather was ruthless and he was cunning, and he was far more intelligent than you. It did not take him long to make an example of them. My grandfather defeated the Red Lion of Castamere in a mere two months. When the rebellion was over Grandfather torched Castamere and had every member of House Reyne executed. Men, women, children. All of them. He hung their bodies from the gates of Casterly Rock as a reminder of what it meant to fight against Lannisters and he left them to rot all summer. That summer lasted many years."

"And this story is supposed to scare me?" Robb asked.

"It's not a story," Lenora told him. "It's a lesson. The Lannisters own Castamere now. There is no House Reyne." She paused for a moment to let that sink in, and then dropping her voice an octave, she added, "And now the rains weep o'er his hall, and not a soul to hear."

Robb watched her for a moment and Lenora finally thought that what she had said had sunk in. He was finally getting it. War against her uncle and her grandfather was not something to joke about. "Why?" he asked her, wondering why she had brought it up.

"You are marching to war against two men who know a lot more about it than you. You should not be wasting your time dining with me when you could be planning with your bannermen. What you're doing is no joke."

"Are you worried about me?" Robb asked, his tone almost playful. Though his blue eyes were serious. Whatever her answer to his question was, it mattered to him.

"Whatever your father has done, he was still like a brother to mine," Lenora told him with forced nonchalance and a shrug of her shoulders. "I cannot wish too much ill on you, no matter how much I long to be home with my family."

Robb nodded, but something darkened in his eyes, that was not the answer he had been hoping for. "As it is, I did not ask you to dine with me to avoid my bannermen. I would show you something." Lenora silently raised her eyebrows, wondering what Robb wanted her to see. He stood from his chair and walked around the table to her side, pulling something out of his pocket as he moved. It was a letter. "This arrived at Winterfell the morning we left," he told her.

He placed it on the table in front of her and allowed Lenora to lean over it to look at it. The parchment was creased and wrinkled and warn soft. He had held it and read it many times. She flipped it over before she read it and saw the Stark seal, "Sansa's handwriting?" she asked as she flipped the parchment back over to read.

"Aye," Robb told her with a nod. "But not her words."

Lenora's eyes darted across the page as she read it quickly, she recognized the style and the urgency. She was not blind to the threats that were made, despite the courteous language. "No," she whispered, "it wouldn't be her words, would it? It says so right here," her fingertip drummed on a passage about how she was in the queen's keeping and being well cared for. "They're my mother's."

Robb nodded, but said nothing as Lenora read the letter for a second time. "She calls for you and your mother to bend the knee to Joffrey in King's Landing. Once you've done that and returned me to my family Sansa can marry my brother." She bit her lip once she realized something.

"What?" Robb asked. "What is it that you see?" From the amount of times he had read this letter he must have known what she was about to say. Lenora had the feeling that this was some sort of test.

"It's what I don't see," she murmured, looking over the letter once more. "She does not mention Arya at all."

Robb nodded, he had expected her to find that. "Does that mean that your mother doesn't have her? Is Arya dead?"

Lenora shook her head, "Mother would tell you if Arya was dead or if she had her. Those are two knives that she would not be able to resist twisting in your heart. If she doesn't mention her it's because she does not know where Arya is or what may have happened to her. That's the best news this letter has to offer."

"Better than my sister getting to marry your brother?"

Lenora bit her tongue, physically forcing herself not to tell Robb how bad it would be for Sansa to marry Joffrey. He was her younger brother and a prick, but he was still her King. "There's something else," she said instead.

"What?" Robb asked, this time more urgently. Showing her this letter had been a test, but he hadn't been expecting two answers.

"She doesn't say what will happen to your father either way. Whether you go to King's Landing to bend the knee or not. There's no mention of what they will do to your father."

Robb's voice was determined, his jaw was set, his eyes hard. "We'll find out," he promised her. "If they want us in King's Landing then we will march all the way to King's Landing. And I'll cut off your brother's head while I'm there."

-.-.-.-.-

Robb

His mother found them at Moat Cailin half a week later. The ruins had surprised Lenora when they first arrived. There had once been a wall as large and tall as Winterfell's that surrounded the stronghold, but that was almost gone now. The wooden keep had rotted away a thousand years ago. There were just three towers left standing, the Gatehouse Tower, the Drunkard's Tower, and the Children's Tower. "This is Moat Cailin?" she had asked him, her dark brown hair flying in the wind as she had turned her head from the ruins to Robb and back again. "Are you serious?" Robb had nodded, but Lenora had shaken her head. "Once my grandfather and I were playing a game, planning invasions on other regions of the Seven Kingdoms and Grandfather told me that you northerner's used Moat Cailin as a lynchpin, whoever held this, held the North."

"You planned invasions on the North and called it a game?" Robb had asked her, his eyebrows raised. He was not surprised though, this was Tywin Lannister and his granddaughter after all.

Lenora didn't answer his question, she just kept staring at the ruins before her, "He cannot have meant this, though," she told him.

"Oh, he did," Robb had assured her. He climbed down from his horse and lifted the slender princess down from hers. He placed her in front of him, his left hand resting on her hip, his right arm reached around her to point at the ruins. "Those three towers, the ones still standing, if only barely, command the causeway from all sides. In order to get to the North beyond any enemy would need to pass between those towers."

"Why not around?" Lenora asked him, her voice had a somewhat breathless quality to it. He knew that she wasn't completely comfortable with how free and easy he was with the way he touched her. She never had been, even when she had been friendlier to him, she definitely wasn't now that she wasn't sure if he was her enemy or not. But she wasn't fighting him today and he would take what he could get from her.

"I suppose you could go around," Robb had told her. "But the bogs are full of quicksand and suckholes, teeming with snakes." She shuddered in his arms, the movement settling her further against his chest. Robb tightened his grip on her hip. "And if you mean to gain ownership of any of the towers you must first wade though a waist deep black muck, cross a moat full of lizard lions, and scale moss covered walls, all the while under fire from the other two towers."

"Is that all?" Lenora had asked, her tone holding a ghost of the playfulness he was once accostomed to.

He shrugged his shoulders, playfully indifferent, "They say when night falls there are ghosts. Cold, vengeful spirits of the North who hunger for southern blood."

Lenora sunk even further into his arms at that. "Where's a damn long sword when you need it?" she asked, no doubt thinking of the longswords that sat across the laps of the Lords of Winterfell in the crypt, keeping their ghosts at bay.

"Don't worry, My Lady," Robb had told her. "No harm will come to you while I am with you."

And he had kept his promise. She was safe with him and while they were there she never left his presence except to sleep.

His mother arrived without warning. He had made his seat in the Gatehouse tower. And when she arrived she found him there looking at maps and discussing tactics with Roose Bolton and the Greatjon, his other bannermen sitting around the table as well. Lenora was sitting on the floor by the fire, her skirts flaring out around her, with Grey Wind. She had a pile of shirts beside her that she was mending - earlier that morning she had gone to all of his lords bannermen and asked them if they had anything they needed mended; and now she was working on them while pretending not to listen to what they were discussing.

But Robb knew better. She never looked up from the shirt she was working on, but every so often her brow would furrow or she would pull on her sewing silk a little too tightly, unable to hide her opinions of what they were saying, even if it would have been wiser to do so.

She and Grey Wind both looked up when his mother entered the room though. It was probably her movement that caught the attention of the men in the room, more than his mother's. One by one the lords became silent. And Robb looked up, worried that something had happened to Lenora. Instead he saw his mother at the door, "Mother?" he asked, his voice thick as his direwolf stood from the ground to greet the woman.

She leaned forward slightly, as if to run to him, but she stayed where she was, "You've grown a beard," she told him in greeting.

Lenora smiled as she looked between the mother and son. Robb nodded, "Yes," he told her, reaching up to run his fingers over the stubble that covered his chin and some of his cheeks. Their first night at Moat Cailin Lenora had run her fingers through the hair and commented that his beard was more red than the hair on his head.

Catelyn nodded, "I like it," she told him. "It makes you look like my brother, Edmure."

Lenora had said that too, that he looked more like a Tully with the beard.

One by one the men greeted Catelyn. It had been long since many of them had seen her, but they were all as friendly as if it had been a matter of weeks. "My Lady, a question, if you please," Lord Bolton began once he had greeted her. Roose Bolton always spoke in a quiet voice, but when he spoke, even the loud Greatjon quieted to listen. "It is said that you hold Lord Tywin's dwarf son as a captive. Have you brought him to us? I vow, we should make good use of such a hostage."

Robb watched as Lenora tensed from her spot on the floor. He did his best to ensure that he and his bannermen treated her like a guest, not a hostage, but he knew that she understood what she was. She knew that when his bannermen looked at her most of them saw something the could use against her grandfather and mother.

Catelyn's eyes flicked toward the girl on the floor too, "I did hold Tyrion Lannister, but no longer," she admitted. Robb could not have been the only one to notice Lenora's quiet sigh of relief or the way her shoulders instantly relaxed. The men around him did not share her joy at the news. "I was no more pleased than you, my Lords," Catelyn told them. "But the Gods saw fit to free him, with some help from my fool sister." The men wanted to question her more, but Catelyn had interrupted their questions by requesting to speak to her son alone.

Lenora had been the first one to move. She stood from the floor and turned toward the men surrounding the table. "Greatjon," she told him, turning to look at the large man. "I believe that you were going to teach me how to jump a horse today, were you not?"

"Aye, My Lady," the Greatjon agreed. "I did agree to that did I not?" The Greatjon bowed to Catelyn before held his arm out to Lenora so that he could escort her from the tower. Lenora nodded to the large man and curtsied to Catelyn before she allowed the lord to lead her out of the room. Once the two of them were gone the rest of the lords and Theon left too.

Robb stayed at his place at the head of the table as Catelyn moved further into the room, studying him. "When I left Winterfell you were acting the Lord," Catelyn told him, her voice shaking slightly. "And that was almost too much. Now I find you planning a war."

"There was no one else," Robb told her.

"No one else?" Catelyn echoed, "And who were those men that were just in this room?"

"They aren't Starks."

"They are men." She moved closer to her son, finally embracing him now that they were alone. "I still remember the day you were born," she told him. "Red faced and screaming. And now, here you are. Can you not see what I fear?"

Robb nodded, "Aye Mother," he told her. "I can see what you fear. But it is too late now. One day these men will be my true bannermen, they will need to respect me. I cannot run and hide now."

"No you cannot," Catelyn agreed, her voice quiet and sad. She moved away from her son so that she could pour herself a horn of ale.

Robb moved closer to the fire, he grabbed a piece of parchment off the mantle, Sansa's letter. "You've heard about father," he said, a statement not a question.

Catelyn nodded, "Lysa received word at the Eyrie before I left. Have you heard anything of the girls?"

Robb handed his mother his letter. "I received this letter the day we left Winterfell. There was one for you too, but had not imagined seeing you at camp so I did not bring it. Read it, Gods know that I've read it enough to have it memorized."

He dropped himself into a chair by the fire and stroked Grey Wind's head as he watched his mother read the letter. It did not take her long to finish. "This is Cersei's letter, not Sansa's," she told him and he nodded. "But the real message is in what it does not say, she may be taken care of, but she is the queen's hostage."

"She doesn't mention Arya," Robb pointed out. "I had hoped that if you still held the Imp we could have traded him and Lenora for father and the girls." He shook his head and looked away from her. "What are we going to do, Mother?" he asked her. "I've brought an army together and I mean to march on King's Landing, but ..." his voice trailed off, unsure of what to say next.

Catelyn studied him for a moment, her son hadn't just brought an army together, he needed to lead them. He needed to be brave. "What are you afraid of, Robb?" she asked him.

"I'm afraid that we'll lose," her son told her. "I'm afraid that even if we win - the Lannisters hold Father and Sansa, no one has any idea where Arya is. I'm afraid they will kill them."

"They certainly want us to think that," Catelyn murmured.

"You think they're lying?" Robb asked.

Catelyn was quiet for a moment before she nodded, "As long as we have Lenora Cersei will not harm your father or sister. As much as she means to control you by keeping them hostage a lioness will always protect her cubs. If we have Lenora your sister and father will be safe."

"So sending her back to King's Landing as a sign of good faith would be stupid?" Robb asked, his tone lighter than the situation called for. He had thought about it during the ride from Winterfell, but even Lenora had told him it would be stupid. The girl was a mystery to him, she desperately wanted to go home to King's Landing, but she seemed to refuse to do it at the expense of his sister and father.

"Did Lenora suggest that?" Catelyn asked, suspicious.

Robb shook his head, "She told me not to be a fool when I did."

Catelyn nodded, at least one of them had a head for war. "Tell me what you know of the fighting in the Riverlands," she commanded, testing him. "What you know, not what Lenora has told you."

Robb nodded and filled her in on what had been happening. Jaime Lannister had been fighting battles beneath the Golden Tooth, closing in on Riverrun. Before Ned had been arrested he had sent men from King's Landing under the King's banner to put a stop to it, but they had been beaten back. Tywin Lannister had closed the King's Road and was marching north to Harrenhal, burning everything in his path. Just like her story, he realized, thinking of the warning Lenora had given him in the form of her story about Castamere.

"You mean to meet him here?" Catelyn asked, meaning Tywin.

Robb shrugged his right shoulder, "If he comes this far North. But the Lords Bannermen think he won't. He's too smart for that. He will stay near the Trident, taking out castle by castle of the river lords until Riverrun stands alone. We will have to march south to take him on."

"Marching is all very well," Catelyn told him. "But to where? And for what purpose."

"The Greatjon thinks that we should take the battle to Lord Tywin and surprise him. The Glovers and the Karstarks tell me we should join Uncle Edmure at Riverrun and help hold off the Kingslayer."

"And what do you think?" Catelyn asked him.

Robb smiled, Lenora had asked him the same thing the night before. He stood from his chair and gestured for his mother to follow him to the table with the maps. There were wooden pieces all over the largest map of Westeros, each piece the carved sigil of one of the great houses, signifying where their army stood. "Each plan has its own virtues," he told his mother. "But Lenora pointed out last night that if we try to swing around Lord Tywin's host, we take the risk of being caught between him and the Kingslayer. And if we attack him ... by all reports he has more men than I do. The Greatjon says that it won't much matter if we catch him with his breeches down, but after everything Lenora has told me about Lord Tywin, I don't believe that a man who has seen as many battles as he has will be easily caught by surprise."

Catelyn raised her eyebrows, "Lenora has sat in on your strategy meetings?" she asked him, surprised.

Robb nodded, "She's not allowed to send ravens. I've kept her away from any couriers who might be bribed to carry a message for her."

"But why would she help you? Be smart about her, Robb."

"I am," Robb told her, his voice sharp. "I have spent more time with Lenora than you have. I think that she offers help because she can't keep her mouth shut. She told me once about how she and Lord Tywin used to play a game, devising attack strategies on great houses in the Seven Kingdoms. Until it actually comes to a battle and becomes real to her these strategy scenarios are just like that game to her, a chance to stretch her mind."

"A game that puts your life in danger," Catelyn pointed out.

Robb nodded, "Which is why she does not know what I have planned."

"And what is that?" Catelyn asked.

Robb pointed at the map again, "I'd leave a small host here to hold the moat, mostly archers and march the rest down the causeway. But once we're below the neck I would split my host in two. The foot would continue down the King's Road while our horsemen cross the Green Fork at the Twins." He moved the wooden pieces on the map to demonstrate what he meant. "Lord Tywin will march north on the King's Road when he hears word that we are headed south. He won't know that our riders will be hurrying down the west bank to Riverrun."

"You'd put a river between the two halves of your army?" Catelyn asked, her eyebrows raised.

"And between Lord Tywin and the Kingslayer," Robb told her with a grin. He pointed at the Green Fork river on the map. "There's no crossing the Green Fork above the Ruby Ford. Not until the Twins, and Lord Frey controls the bridge. He is your father's bannerman, isn't he?"

Catelyn nodded, "He is," she told him. "But my father has never trusted him, you would be wise not to either."

"I won't," Robb promised her.

"Which force would you command?"

"The horse," Robb told her.

His mother smiled ruefully as she nodded, "That was your father's way too," she told him. "Ned would always take the more dangerous task himself. The other?"

"Roose Bolton," Robb told her. "He's cunning and smart, a good match for Lord Tywin." Catelyn nodded to him, his plan was a good one. She was proud of him. Robb began to take the wooden pieces off the map and place them in their carrying box, he rolled up the map. "I'll give the commands and assemble an escort to take you home to Winterfell."

Catelyn shook her head, it hadn't occurred to her until that moment that she would not return to her youngest boys at Winterfell. "I'm not going to Winterfell," she told her son. "My father may be dying behind the walls of Riverrun. My brother is surrounded by foes. I must go to them."

Robb nodded, "Then we shall take you there, Mother," he promised her.

Author's Note:
Damn, I must really like you guys. Another new chapter today.
I hope you enjoyed it. If you did, show that box down there some review love. It's a bit lonely.
Thank you to those who reviewed the last chapter, this update is for the two of you. You're wonderful.
DannyBlack70: It was a tense chapter. So I softened them a bit here, though ... he's making plans to march on both her grandfather and her uncle so I'm not sure how long this softness will last. I hope you enjoyed this chapter dear!
Arianna Le Fay: Don't worry, she will find her own ways to punish him. Though she's more likely to verbally put him in his place like she did in this chapter than to beat the crap out of him. She is Tyrion's niece as well, after all.
Once again, thanks for reading guys!
Until next time,
Chloe Jane.