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Chapter Twenty-One: No One Else

Tyrion

He missed his niece, now that he was in King's Landing more than ever. He couldn't trust anyone in the Red Keep, he knew that much. But he would have been able to trust Lenora. She would have even helped him. Instead he was left trying to find a way to save her and he had nothing to trade for her save Sansa Stark. He was sure that Catelyn would willingly give Lenora back to him, Jaime too, if it meant that he sent Sansa home to Winterfell, but her son was a different story.

Her son was not stupid when it came to the ways of war. He would not trade his most valuable hostage for his sisters, and Tyrion did not even have both. Just one. And truth be told, the Stark boy seemed quite taken with Lenora. Tyrion could still remember the way Robb had stood in front of her, as if to protect her from Tyrion the last time he had seen her at Winterfell. It had been laughable then, that the Stark boy had thought she needed protection from her uncle, but it touched his heart now.

King's Landing was getting more unsafe for those with royal blood in their veins every day. Each day more small folk crowded into the city, taking refuge from the war in the North. But they did not find safety in the city. Instead they found crowds, starvation, fear, and anger. Women were raped on the streets, men were killed for a crust of stale bread. Cersei did not see it because she stayed within the walls of the castle and the keep. Joffrey was too busy ruling to leave the Red Keep and Myrcella and Tommen were too young to go anywhere unaccompanied.

But Lenora was a different story. She would have wandered. She had always wandered. Even when she was a young girl she was always disappearing in search of one adventure or another. She was safer away from the city, not that Tyrion wanted to voice that opinion to his sister. She was safer out of the city and even if she went looking for adventures in the North he was sure that he could trust Robb Stark to keep her safe.

Cersei was not as smart as she thought she was, she was being shortsighted. She didn't need Lenora back in King's Landing. What she needed was to get her other children out of the city. Renly was amassing men in High Garden, he already had the strength of both the Tyrells and Storms End. Stannis had named himself King as well and named three of her children bastards. The best case scenario was that one Baratheon brother marched on King's Landing, then the other.

The worst was that they came at the same time: Stannis by sea, Renly by land.

If she truly loved her children she would get them out of the capital, sooner rather than later. He had a plan for that, and a way to figure out who on the Small Council he could trust. Kill two birds with one stone as it were.

First he told Grand Maester Pycelle that he meant to send Myrcella to Dorne and once they got Lenora back he meant to marry her off to some Lord in King's Landing. Cersei would lose one daughter, but get another back.

Next, to Petyr Baelish he offered Myrcella to Robert Arryn of the Vale and Lenora to Ser Loras Tyrell if Baelish could get himself down to Highgarden and convince Lord Tyrell that an alliance with the Lannisters would be more beneficial than one with Renly.

And then to Varys he said he planned on sending Tommen to Dorne to be a ward of the Martells. Lenora would be married off to Theon Greyjoy in an attempt to persuade Balon Greyjoy and his son of helping them destroy Robb Stark's army from within.

Three Lords of the Small Council. Three stories. Three insistences that they do not speak of the plans with the Queen Regent.

One. Two. Three.

If none of them talked to Cersei then he would have his pick of what to do with the children and where to send them. But if one of them did, then he would also know who he could not trust.

He would have patted himself on the back for it, he really would have. If only his hand could reach.

He had been busy since arriving in King's Landing. He had met with all the metal workers to start them on making his chain. He had met with the Pyromancers about their Wildfire. The Gods knew that he hoped he would not have to use it, but if Stannis sailed on King's Landing he planned to protect the city with everything he had.

Bronn was waiting for him when he left the Pyromancers. "What are you doing here?" Tyrion asked him.

"Delivering your messages," Bronn told him, his voice bored. "Ironhand wants you urgently at the Gate of the Gods. He won't say why. And you've been summoned to Maegor's too."

Tyrion nodded, he could only imagine what his sister wanted with him. One of the Lords on the Small Council must have told her his plans, maybe even more than one. She would be angry with him. But no angrier than if he let her wait a bit longer. Ser Jacelyn would not have requested him at the Gate of the Gods unless it was important. "I'd best see what Bywater wants," he told Bronn as he started to head toward the Gate. "Inform my sister that I will attend her on my return."

"She won't like that," Bronn told him, laughter coloring his voice.

"Good," Tyrion told him with a chuckle. "The wait will make her angry, and anger makes her stupid. I much prefer her angry and stupid to composed and cunning."

There had once been a market square just inside the Gate of the Gods. If they hadn't been in the middle of a war the square would have been filled with farmers selling their vegetables, servants buying for their masters, orphan children begging for food. But now, it was almost deserted. Ser Jacelyn met him at that gate and raised his iron hand in a salute before informing him that his cousin Ser Cleos Frey had just arrived from Riverrun under a peace banner. He had a letter from Robb Stark.

The poor man was confined to a small windowless guardroom in the gatehouse. He looked as though he was going to cry with happiness when Tyrion walked into the room. He stood quickly, giving Tyrion more respect that he had ever received from his Frey cousin in the past. "Tyrion, you are a most welcome sight," he told him. His voice was so sincere that Tyrion almost believed him. "Has Cersei come with you?" Cleos asked him, looking over his shoulder for the absent Queen Regent.

"My sister is occupied," Tyrion told him, dismissing Ser Jacelyn and moving toward the table that Cleos had been sitting at. "Are these Stark's peace terms?" he asked, picking up the parchment from the table.

Cleos looked as though he meant to grab the letter from his hand. "I was told to bring the offer to the Queen Regent," he told him.

Tyrion rolled his eyes as he started reading the letter, "And instead you delivered it to the Hand of the King," he told his cousin. "How are you, Cousin?" he asked Cleos, still reading. "You look tired. You should rest."

Cleos nodded, retaking his previous seat, "It is bad in the Riverlands, Tyrion," Cleos told him. Tyrion clenched his jaw, he did not like the way Cleos continued to use his first name, he thought because he was married to a Lannister it put them on equal footing. It did not. "Around the Gods Eye and along the Kingsroad especially. The River Lords are burning their own crops to try and starve us, and your father's foragers are torching every village they take and putting the smallfolk to the sword."

"That is how war goes," Tyrion told him, rolling his eyes. "It's why I thank the Gods every morning that I was born a Lannister.

"Even with the peace banner, we were attacked. More than once. Wolves in mail, hungry to savage anyone weaker than themselves. Gods alone know what side they started on, but they're on their own side now. Lost three men and at least twice as many are wounded."

"And what news of Robb Stark?" Tyrion asked him, looking up from the peace terms in his hand. "He certainly does not ask for much, just half the kingdom, the release of our captives, hostages for him, his sisters, his father's bones, and his father's great sword. I'm surprised that he did not ask for the King's head as well."

"I believe he means to take that," Cleos told him, his tone dark. He was quiet for a moment, thinking of what would be most useful to say. "The boy sits idle at Riverrun. I think he fears to meet your father in the field."

Tyrion snorted at that. "The boy has won every battle he's fought. And he took my brother Jaime captive after the Battle of the Whispering Wood. Flattering my father will do you no good here, especially when it is a lie."

Cleos nodded, silent again. But the next time he spoke it was with more facts and less flattery. "His strength grows less each day. The River Lords have departed, each to defend his own lands."

Tyrion nodded. "And what of Lenora? And Jaime?" he asked Cleos. "Did you see my niece while you were at Riverrun? Did you see my brother?"

"I did not see Ser Jaime," Cleos told him, looking down in disappointment. "The Young Wolf does not let anyone see him. But I did see Princess Lenora, though she did not speak to me. She seems to be well cared for, he has married her and his Bannermen have named her their Queen in the North. She may not be the happiest, but she is safe."

Tyrion nodded, rolling up the parchment in his hand, "These peace terms will not do," he told his cousin. "We will not trade the Stark girls for Tion and Willem," he inclined his head toward Cleos, silently apologizing for refusing not to make the trade for his cousin's younger brother. "Perhaps if he had offered Jaime and Lenora up for the girls." He shook his head, "No, we will have to propose our own exchange of captives. I will consult with Cersei and the Council. Once I have done that we will send you back to Riverrun with our terms."

Cleos did not look thrilled at that prospect, "My Lord," he started, finally giving Tyrion the respect he deserved as Hand of the King. "I do not believe Robb Stark will yield easily. It is Lady Catelyn who wants peace. Her son wants war."

"Lady Catelyn does not want peace," Tyrion told him, shaking his head. "She wants her daughters. And her boy wants revenge for what my nephew did to Ned Stark. These terms will not give us peace."

-.-.-.-.-

Robb

She was in the Godswood, his little warrior, practicing with the bow that Theon had left for her. They had a strange relationship, Lenora and Theon. She was suspicious of him and she most certainly did not trust him, but they were almost friends. They rode together occasionally, they had jokes, Theon taught Lenora how to use the bow, and Lenora would playfully roll her eyes and help Theon tell his battle stories by interjecting with the truth more often than the man would have liked.

When Theon left for the Iron Islands he had given Lenora his own bow, playfully asking her to keep it safe for him until he returned.

She had been practicing with it every day since.

She was concentrating so much on her target that she did not notice his approach. He leaned against one of the trees and watched her.

Her stance was good. Her feet were hips distance apart, a steady base. He smiled softly at her, from the ground to her waist she looked good, but she was stiff.

He found it funny, Jaime Lannister had taught Lenora to fight with sword in a practical manner. She knew how to fight, if she ever found herself on a battlefield with a sword in her hand she would be able to take care of herself. Theon, on the other hand, had taught her to shoot a bow and arrow at a target. If she were ever caught in battle with a bow she would be killed before she got the chance to find her proper stance.

He must have chuckled out loud because she turned around, finally hearing him. "Are you just going to watch?" she asked, her voice playfully stubborn. "Or are you going to help me?"

He wondered if she had ever really been as blind to his presence as he had thought she was. He watched her as she loosed the arrow, it sailed through the air, straight and true and hit dead center on her target. "You seem to be doing just fine on your own," he told her, moving closer to her. "Have you ever met a weapon that you do not excel at?"

"I'm not very good with a morning star," Lenora told him as she walked away from him so that she could collect her arrows from the target. She sighed, "I know I'm doing something wrong," she told Robb as she started to walk back to him. "It feels weird, this bow. A sword doesn't feel like this."

"You've had a sword for many years," Robb told her as he walked around her in a circle. "Well go on," he told her, gesturing to the bow. "Show me your stance again."

Lenora rolled her eyes at him, but did as he told her. "This is different," she told him, shaking her head. "My sword, even the first time I practiced with it - even when I stole my uncle's sword, it did not feel as strange. As foreign."

Robb nodded. "I've seen you with a sword in your hand, Love," he told her. "You're relaxed. Look at you now, you're too tense." He came to stand behind her, his chest pressed against her back. His hands on her shoulders, "Relax."

Lenora took a deep inhale, holding the breath for a moment, before slowly breathing out. Her body relaxed on the exhale, Robb smiled when he felt her shoulders soften under his hands. "Bend your knees," he whispered in her ear. He could not see her knees because of her skirts, but he could imagine them. "When you have them locked you are as like to pass out as to hit your intended target."

She nodded, fidgeting for a moment before becoming still. She smiled up at him, "This feels familiar," she whispered.

Robb nodded, "Same concept as sword play, really," he told her. He slid his hand down her left arm, "Relax your grip," he told her, smiling at the tense hold she had on the bow. He slid his fingers between hers, gently pulling her fingers off the bow. "Lightly hold the bow," he told her. "Ser Rodrik, at Winterfell, once told me you should hold a bow like you would hold a woman. Light and gentle so as not to bruise her."

He was so close to her that he thought he could feel the heat rising from the blush on her cheeks. "Let's see how you nock the arrow."

She nodded and after a moment started to move. She turned the bow horizontal so that the arrow rest was facing upwards. She placed an arrow in the rest, pushing the nock of the arrow onto the string and then turned the bow vertical again. She did it all very fast, he would give her that. Theon had taught her that very well. But if she ever wanted to be truly good she would need to learn to nock an arrow without turning the bow. "Pull the string back?" she asked him.

Robb nodded silently, knowing that she would be able to feel his answer. The corners of her lips turned up in a smile. She placed the three middle fingers of her right hand on the string. Robb shook his head. "Index finger above the arrow, middle and ring below. The string should go no further than the top crease of your fingers."

Lenora smiled at that, "My uncle Stannis has a knight," she told him. "They call him the Onion Knight because he smuggled onions into Storm's End during my father's rebellion." She shrugged her shoulders. "Because Stannis takes his honor very seriously he knighted the smuggler for saving Storm's End, but not before he removed his fingers at the top crease for being a smuggler."

"Your uncle is strange," Robb told her as she started to draw the bow back. "You're pulling wrong," he told her. "Not with your arms, your back." It was something he would have missed if he hadn't been standing so close to her, if he hadn't been pressed against her back.

"Theon told me that too," Lenora told him, relaxing the string. "But he never told me why."

"Why?" Robb asked. "Because your back is bigger than your arm. Let it do the work."

"Okay," she told him, "I'll try again." She pulled the arrow back again, this time Robb felt the muscles on her back move, straining slightly with the effort. Lenora had never been weak, but all the riding they had done since they left Winterfell had made her even stronger.

"Good," Robb told her. Her index finger was under her chin, the string touching her nose and lips. Her elbow was slightly raised. His left arm slid around her waist, holding her still, his right hand went to her elbow, pushing down gently until it was level with the rest of her arm. "Better."

She pursed her lips, she wasn't angry though, her eyes were shining silver, a color he hadn't seen in them for several weeks. She was trying not to smile. She closed her left eye, using only her dominant right eye to sight her target.

"Easy does it," Robb whispered.

She relaxed her grip on the string, allowing her fingertips to slide back without clinging to the bowstring. The arrow flew through the air and Robb's hand on her hip became a restraining grip as she started to turn away. "Maintain the body position until your arrow has hit its mark," he told her. "It's about the intention of it."

As soon as the arrow hit the target he let go of her hip. He didn't move away from her though and he was rewarded by having her lean back against his chest, relaxing into him. "How did that feel?" he murmured.

"Better," Lenora told him with a giggle. "A lot better. Though I imagine part of that had to do with how close you were to me." That made him smile. She turned her head to look up at him, "Is this how Ser Rodrik taught you to shoot an arrow?" she asked him.

"No," Robb told her, shaking his head with a chuckle. "I would imagine that it would be an awkward situation if this was how Rodrik taught young boys to shoot bows." He paused for a moment, his smile turning into a wolflike smirk, "Though, it is how his daughter taught me."

"His daughter?" Lenora asked, raising her eyebrows and looking at his with wide, bewildered eyes. "And did you know this daughter of his ... well?"

"Well enough," Robb told her, not quite meeting her eyes. He leaned in as if to kiss her, but she leaned away from him with a giggle. She tried to take a step back, but Robb's hands shot out, landing on her hips to keep her in place.

She sighed, but did not fight him; instead she dropped Theon's bow to the ground, her hands came to rest on his chest. "And did you know any other women well enough?" she asked him.

Robb chuckled and threw his head back, "Let's see here. There was Beth Cassel, and Jeyne Poole. Ros in Wintertown. And -"

"Enough!" Lenora interrupted with a yell, throwing her own head back and laughing. "You're lucky I am not in love with you Robb Stark or I would be jealous."

"I believe you're jealous, even now," Robb told her with a wide grin. The grin softened into smile, "And you, My Lady?"

"Are you adding me to your list?" Lenora asked him, looking away with a blush on her cheeks, "Or asking me who is on mine?"

"Oh you're at the top of my list," he told her with a smile. "You have no need to worry about that."

Lenora smiled at that, her blush darkening even more. "There was no one else," she told him, her voice quiet. He hadn't needed to hear that from her, it was obvious to him that she had been untouched before she came to him. It was nice to hear all the same though. She wouldn't meet his eyes, "Just you."

Robb watched her, quiet for a moment, "I wish that I could say that it was only you," he told her. "It will be only you from here until my last day."

Lenora smiled and shook her head, "You do not have to apologize," she told him, her voice gentle and soft. "You're a young man, and a handsome one. Of course you knew women before me. And you'll know women after me, I'm sure. Though, if I find out about them I will cut off your cock. Don't think I won't."

Robb shook his head, ignoring her threat, though he was sure that she meant it. "I swear to you," he told her. "I made a vow."

"And my father made a vow to my mother," Lenora told him. "A lot of good his vow did for them." She paused, turning her gaze back to him, clenching her jaw, "Your father swore a vow to your mother and you have Jon for a half brother."

Robb's hands tensed on her hips and Lenora flinched away from him, as if she were afraid that he would strike her. He forced his hands to relax and his face to soften. "You speak the truth," he told her through clenched teeth. "I may not want to hear it, but you speak the truth. I would not harm you for that." He studied her for a moment, "You thought I was going to hit you," he told her, his voice quiet. "Why?"

Lenora shook her head, forcing a smile onto her lips.

"Why Nora?" he asked her, his voice more forceful than before. "Has someone hit you? Your father? Your uncles? Your brother?"

Lenora shook her head. "No," she told him. "But my mother always spoke her mind, she always pushed my father." She looked away from him, her eyes stormy, "And he hit her."

-.-.-.-.-

Cersei

She was waiting for him in her solar, standing by the window. From where she stood she could see Myrcella, playing in the garden below Maegor's Holdfast. She had several of the young girls that served as her ladies with her. They seemed to be playing a game of Maidens and Monsters. She smiled ruefully at the sight below. Myrcella was giggling, this was the first time she had heard her daughter giggle since the war started, since the young princess realized that Lenora was trapped in the North with the enemy.

But now, now she was finally smiling, laughing and Tyrion meant to send her away.

She had sent for Tyrion almost an hour ago and the little monster still had not come to see her. He had sent his sellsword to tell her that he would see her once he had time. Oh, how she had railed at his messenger. She was the Queen Regent, he was just the substitute Hand of the King. He had no right to ignore her summons. He had no right to make her wait. The sellsword had just smiled at her, as if her words had absolutely no effect on him. He grabbed her goblet of wine off the table in front of her and finished it in one swallow before he left the room, humming to himself.

And this was who Tyrion had named the new Captain of the City Watch. She was still fuming about that.

But now, watching Myrcella in the garden it was impossible to be upset about the damn City Watch. All she could think about was how her brother meant to send her child away from her. He hadn't even asked her permission, he hadn't even discussed it with her. And Lenora! He planned on getting her back just to give her away again. Cersei shook her head. She had allowed Robert to give their daughter away once, she was not going to allow another man to give her away again.

No matter what their father said.

Tyrion should not have made her wait, it was stupid of him. The longer she waited the angrier she got. By the time the door to her solar opened and he strolled in unannounced she could have killed him. She would have done so happily too.

"What a disgusting little worm you are," she sneered at him without turning from the window.

"What a sweet greeting, dear Sister," Tyrion told her, his voice sarcastic.

"You monster," she continued as if he had not spoken. "Myrcella is my youngest daughter, the only one I have left to me. Do you really think I will allow you to sell her like some common whore?" She turned to glare at her brother and walked closer to him, wanting him to feel just how angry she was. "And Lenora? You haven't even gotten her back yet and you already plan to send her away?"

Something lit in Tyrion's eyes. Cersei didn't know what it was that made her brother so excited but that glint in his eyes made her angrier. He was treating her daughters' lives like they were a game. "I'm not treating either of them like common whores," Tyrion told her, walking further into the room. "They are princesses. Some would say this is what they were born for. If Robert were still around her would have started making marriage plans for Myrcella already. Lenora was only five when he planned her betrothal to Robb Stark. It's time for Myrcella to play her part. Or did you plan to marry her to Tommen?"

Cersei could not decide what to be angrier at. The Imp had been making sly remarks about brothers and sisters, her and Jaime, since he had come back. They were disgusting jokes and low even for him. But for him to imply that Myrcella and Tommen ... that was worse. He put his hands behind his back and waddled across the room, pacing. "I would have suggested that you planned to marry Lenora to Joffrey, but I think you love her too much for that. Pity that you don't care for Sansa Stark, despite how much the girl tries to be like your own daughter."

He stopped at the table by the window and picked up a cup, pouring some wine in it. Cersei waited until he had filled his cup and taken a step away from the table before her hand lashed out and she knocked the cup from his hand, spilling the wine on the floor. "Brother or no, I should have your tongue cut out for that," she told him.

Tyrion looked bored at her threat, "I believe there has been more than enough tongue cuttings for one month," he told her. "It seems to be the King's punishment of choice. Though it does nothing to keep the whispers at bay."

"I am Joffrey's regent. I am the girls' mother. Not you. And I say that Myrcella will not be shipped off to Dorne the way I was shipped to Robert Baratheon." There was that light in Tyrion's eyes again. He was playing some game and she didn't even know the rules.

Tyrion pulled out his handkerchief and wiped the wine from his fingers with a sigh. "Dorne is the safest place for her," he told her, slow and gentle as if he was speaking to a child.

"The Martells hate us," Cersei argued.

"That's why we need to seduce them," Tyrion told her. "We'll need their support in the war. They hate us for what happened Prince Doran's sister, but that is only one generation back. They have warred with Storm's End and Highgarden for many generations. Renly has taken Dorne's support for granted, I mean to steal it from him. Myrcella is ten, Trystane Martell twelve. I have proposed they wed after her fourteenth nameday. Until such time, she would stay at Sunspear, under Prince Doran's protection."

"A hostage," Cersei told him, her voice cracking as she turned away from Tyrion to move back toward the window to watch her daughter play.

"An honored guest," Tyrion corrected, waddling after her to stand by the window as well.

"A prisoner."

"But safe," Tyrion countered. "Safer than she will be in King's Landing. Do you want her to be raped? Butchered? If Stannis or Renly sack the city do you think they will treat her kindly? She is not Lenora, she does not have their blood in her veins. They would be gentle with Lenora, marry her off to some Lord with a small amount of land, far from King's Landing. But Myrcella? She is not their blood. She is not Robert's child. They will mount her pretty head on a spike right next to yours. You know it's true."

Cersei hated it, but she knew he was right, she could feel tears springing to her eyes as she sat down on the sill of the window and nodded. She was done fighting over Myrcella, she hated it, but he was right.

Her fight was not completely done yet though. "And what of Lenora?" she asked him, her voice quiet. "My source knew exactly what you planned to do with Myrcella, but all he said about Lenora was that you planned on marrying her to a Southern Lord once you got her back. Which Lord?"

"I haven't quite decided yet," Tyrion told her with a shrug of his shoulders. "Whichever one proves himself most worthy. Lord Baelish has been working tirelessly for the King as of late, though we would have to give him a better title and lands before he would be worthy of her -"

"You will not give her to Littlefinger," Cersei growled at him, all her submission disappearing in an instant. "I would not trust that man with a dog. I would never give my daughter to him."

"Very well," Tyrion told her, as if he actually cared about how she felt about these things. "Then perhaps I will marry her to one of Father's Bannermen. Len always loved the Rock more than King's Landing. I cannot get her back to the castle she grew up in, but perhaps I can get her back to the West."

"Most of Father's Bannermen are older than me," Cersei argued. "Lenora was already forced to marry the Stark boy, now you would have her marry an old man?"

"One of their son's then," Tyrion told her with a wave of his hand.

Cersei stared at him, her eyes narrowing. "No," she told him, shaking her head. "I don't believe you. You care too much about Lenora, so much more than you care about Myrcella, you would not be so cavalier with her future. You have something else up your sleeve when it comes to her. What is it?"

Tyrion shook his head. He had a plan, she could tell, but he did not wish to share it with her. Cersei watched him for a moment before she sighed, too tired to fight anymore. "I should have been born a man," she told Tyrion. "I would have no need of any of you then."

"Jaime might have been disappointed though," Tyrion joked, staring at his sleeve, there were wine stains on the fabric.

"None of this would have been allowed to happen, if I were a man," Cersei told him, ignoring his jape at her. "My daughters would stay with me and would only be married when I decided. Jaime would not have been captured by that boy. And father would not be hiding in Harrenhal, he would be protecting King's Landing like I ordered him to do."

"He's fighting a war," Tyrion told her as he moved away from the window to pour more wine into his cup, moving far enough away from her that she would not be able to knock this cup from his hand. "I know very little about making war, but I imagine that it's more difficult when sitting in one place."

"He's sitting in Harrenhal right now!" Cersei argued, gesturing around the room as if Tyrion would be able to see their father there. "Hiding. They're both hiding. Father sits in one castle, and Robb Stark sits in another, and no one does anything. Except for you, of course, you waddle around King's Landing selling my children."

"There is sitting and there is sitting," Tyrion riddled at her. Cersei raised her eyebrows. "Each one waits for the other to move, but the lion is still, poised, his tail twitching; while the fawn is frozen by fear, bowels turned to jelly. No matter which way he bounds, the lion will have him and he knows it."

"And you're certain that Father is the lion?" Cersei asked him.

"Of course," Tyrion told her with a grin. "It's on all our banners." Cersei was not amused, the look on her face must have been easy enough for her brother to read because he sighed. "If Robb Stark was not afraid of losing why would he have sent us his peace terms?" he asked her, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a scroll of parchment, handing it over to her.

"Peace terms?" Cersei asked, quickly unrolling the parchment.

"Unacceptable though they are, they're something."

"Why do you have them?" Cersei asked as her eyes scanned over the terms. "They should have been brought straight to me. I am the Queen Regent."

"What else is a Hand for, if not to hand you things?" Tyrion asked her.

"Too funny," Cersei told him, shaking her head. She looked up from the terms. "He makes no mention of freeing Jaime." Tyrion nodded. "Or Lenora."

"They've been married," Tyrion told his sister. "Much as Joffrey is unlikely to give up the play thing he has in Sansa; Robb Stark is, perhaps more unlikely, to give up his wife."

"And why is that?" Cersei asked him, raising her eyebrows.

"Because he loves her," Tyrion told her. "Surely you saw that while you were at Winterfell. She isn't a hostage or something to negotiate with. She is his wife. And he loves her."

Cersei scoffed at that. Love was for the weak. But something in Tyrion's voice caught her attention. "Oh I see," she whispered, "the reason you have no plans for what to do with Lenora after you rescue her is because you have no plans to rescue her. You plan to leave her with the Stark boy."

"Just until we beat him," Tyrion told her, unashamed. "She's safer there, with him, than most places in Westeros.

Author's Note:
Hello readers! How are you? I hope that life has treated you well since the last update yesterday.
And if not, then I hope that this chapter may be enough to make up for it. I do, sincerely hope that you enjoyed it. And I hope that you know how much I appreciate you stopping by to read this story. It's encouraging.
I appreciate the reviews even more! So HUGE thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter. You're saints, truly.

DannyBlack70: Cersei is one of my favorites! Which is why I wrote about her again in this chapter. She's just so fantastic in a horribly unlikeable way. And I love her for it. I don't think that Lenora is going to kidnap Theon, that part might stay relatively cannon, though it'll break my heart to do it.

ZabuzasGirl: Thank you! Not an immediate update, but two in twenty-four hours isn't bad.

HPuni101: Thank you! I'm glad that you enjoyed the Cersei and Tyrion scene. I love the two of them together, it's kind of pure magic. And I'm glad that Joffrey's part wasn't bad either. I wasn't completely comfortable writing in Joffrey's voice which is why is part was so short, but I needed it to drive the story a bit and I was just hoping it wasn't too terrible.

RHatch89: Me too! Lenora is such a strong character and she's only going to realize that more and more as the story progresses and I can't wait for it. Unfortunately she's not going to interact with Renly at the very least. It's explained a little more in the next chapter, but with her being Robert's only true child and her future children being true heirs to the Iron Throne Robb's really careful with her. It would be stupid to send her across the country where someone, even if it is her uncle, might capture her to keep her from giving him any children.

Raging Raven: Your review is why I have that disclaimer at the top about occasionally answering questions. So many people have asked about the Red Wedding and I've been pretty cagey about it. I'm not going to totally give it away, because then why would you read it, but ... There is going to be a Red Wedding. I'm just not going to tell you who will die.
But if Robb were to die, you are right. Lenora would survive. She'd come out strong. And I am so glad that you see the similarities to Cersei. Lenora is likable and she spent many years away from Cersei, but she's still her daughter. She's going to have some of those traits, only softened by her years with Tyrion and Jaime.
And I'm thrilled that you think this story is more interesting than the "typical OCs" out there. That's my end goal really.

That's all I've got for now guys! Go show that review box some love. If you have a question ... ask. (I might answer.)
Until next time,
Chloe Jane.