Read. Enjoy. Review. (The reading and enjoying are for you, the reviews are for me!)
I own Lenora Baratheon, nothing more.

My name is Chloe Jane I'm so lazy I haven't gotten out of bed yet.

Chapter Thirty-Six: Where are you?

Catelyn

The Great Hall of Riverrun was empty. Empty and quiet. Outside the thick walls of the castle Catelyn knew that the smallfolk and the servants and the soldiers were all in the yard celebrating. Ser Desmond had brought twenty casks up from the cellars and they were all celebrating. They toasted Edmure's imminent return and they cheered for Robb's conquest of the Crag while hoisting horns of nut-brown ale.

But inside the keep, in the Great Hall, it was quiet and lonely. A lonely place for two people to sit to supper.

Catelyn did not speak. She sat, her spine straight as a rod, and stared into her wine goblet. It was the same wine she had drank the night before and it had been fine, better than fine even. But now, it tasted thin and sour on her tongue. Her food, barely touched, tasted like dirt and ash.

Brienne sat across the table from her, barely eating her own food, though she had put up more of an effort than Catelyn had. Even now she pushed some of it around the plate with her fork as if moving it would make it easier to eat.

One of the torches above the table had guttered out, but there was no one to replace it, Catelyn had given all the servants leave to join the celebration. It had been bitterly done, but she could not blame them for wanting to celebrate and dance and drink and cheer.

She would not blame them. They did not know. And even if they did, why should they care? They had never known her sons. They had never watched Bran climb with their hearts in their throats, pride and terror so mingled that they seemed to be one. They had never heard his laughter. They had never smiled to see Rickon trying so fiercely to be like his older brothers. They had never held the young boy in their arms and pressed kisses into his light brown curls.

She shook her head, turning her gaze from her wine goblet to her supper in front of her. Trout wrapped in bacon with a a salad of turnip greens and warm bread. She had managed barely a bite of each and that had seemed too much.

I am become a sour woman, Catelyn thought. I take no joy in mead or meat, and song and laughter have become suspicious strangers to me. I am a creature of grief and dust and bitter longings. There is an empty place within me where my heart was once.

She looked up from the plate, staring sadly at Brienne. "Brienne, I am no fit company," she told the young woman. "Go join the revels, if you would. Drink a horn of ale and dance to Rymund's harping."

The girl did not know what news Catelyn had received that morning, she only knew that it had been bad. All the same, she looked up at Catelyn, concern shining in her blue eyes. "I am not made for revels, My Lady," she told her, by way of excuse. "If you command it, I ..."

Catelyn shook her head, she would not have the girl uncomfortable and joining the revels because she thought she had been commanded to. "I only thought you might enjoy happier company than mine," she told her.

Brienne shook her head as well, "I'm well content," she told Catelyn. She looked down at her plate for a moment before she looked back up at Catelyn, that concern still shining in her eyes. "But you are in pain, My Lady."

It was that gentle prodding that did it. Catelyn had not intended to tell her, the only ones in the castle that knew at the moment were Maester Vyman and herself. But Brienne was concerned, and Catelyn could trust the young woman to keep what she was told to herself. "There was another bird this morning," she told the young woman. "The maester woke me at once. It was his duty, but it was not kind." She shook her head, swallowing around a lump in her throat, "Not kind at all."

"News from King's Landing?" Brienne assumed.

Catelyn shook her head. "It came from the North," Catelyn told her, her voice heavy. "From the traitor Theon Greyjoy."

That was all she could get out, all she could bare to say, though there was more of the story to tell. Brienne put her fork down, done pushing her food around her plate and pretending to eat. "What is it, My Lady?" she asked, her voice urgent. "What of your sons? Is it some news of them?"

Catelyn shook her head, a bitter sob tearing its way out of her mouth before she could stop it. The girl's question had been a simple one, but it was not a simple answer. She had not said the words out loud yet, fearing that it would make them real. But now, she had started to tell Brienne, she would have to finish it. "I have no sons but Robb," she told the blonde woman.

"My Lady?" Brienne asked, confused and rightfully so. Though she did not seem confused for long, a look of horror was quickly dawning on her face.

"Bran and Rickon tried to escape," Catelyn told her, thankful that she was able to get this sentence out without another sob. It was unbecoming of a Lady of her station to cry in public, even if the only person to see was a woman knight. "But they were retaken at a mill on the Acorn Waters. Theon Greyjoy had their bodies burned and hung in the courtyard of Winterfell." She shook her head, "Theon Greyjoy," she repeated bitterly. "A boy who ate at my table since he was young. Who grew up with my sons as if they were his own brothers."

She watched as Brienne lifted her hand off the table top, reaching out, almost as if she would place her hand on Catelyn's, but stopping. The poor girl concerned that her touch might be unwelcome in some way. "My Lady," she started and then she shook her head. Whatever she was going to say next she changed her mind. "My good Lady, your sons, they - they are with the Gods now."

Tears filled Catelyn's eyes as her head lifted sharply, staring Brienne in the eyes. "Are they?" she bit out, her voice so full of spite that Brienne's hand quickly moved back to her side of the table. "What God would let this happen? Rickon was only a baby. What could he have done to deserve this? And Bran, he was still asleep when I left Winterfell. I have not seen him with his eyes open since the day he fell. Now I can never return to him. I will never hear either of their laughter again. I will never kiss their cheeks, or soothe them when they fall ill."

She reached up, quickly wiping at her eyes before she held up her hands, showing Brienne the scars on her palms and fingers, "These scares," she told the girl. "They sent a man to cut Bran's throat as he lay sleeping. He would have died then, and me with him, Lenora would no doubt have been taken from us if it had not been for Bran's wolf. The beast tore out the man's throat."

She paused for a moment, thinking quietly. "I suppose Theon killed the wolves too, though he makes no mention of it. He must have, else wise ..." she paused, shaking her head. "I was certain the boys would be safe so long as the direwolves were with them. Like Robb with his Grey Wind. But my daughters have no wolves now."

Brienne raised her eyebrows, "Your daughters?" she asked. "My Lady?"

She smiled through her tears for a moment before the smile fell from her lips, "Sansa was a Lady at three, always so courteous and eager to please. She loved nothing so well as tales of knightly valor. Men would say she had my look, but she will grow into a woman far more beautiful than I ever was, you can see that. I often sent away her maid so that I could brush her hair myself." If she closed her eyes she could see it now, her daughter's long red hair. "She had auburn hair, lighter than mine, and so thick and soft. The red in it would catch the light of the torches and shine like copper."

"And the younger daughter?" Brienne asked.

"Arya," Catelyn told her with a nod, "Arya, well ... Ned's visitors would often mistake her for a stableboy if they rode into the yard unannounced. Arya was a trial, it must be said. Half a boy and half a wolf pup. Forbid her anything and it became her heart's desire. She had Ned's long face, and brown hair that always looked as though a bird had been nesting in it. I despaired of ever making a Lady of her."

She looked up to see a small smile resting on Brienne's lips. She had a feeling that she might have been describing Brienne as a girl as much as she was describing her own daughter. "She collected scabs as other girls collect dolls, and would say anything that came into her head. I think she must be dead too."

That hurt to say, she felt as if her throat were constricting and cutting off her ability to breathe. "I want them all dead," she admitted to Brienne. "All of them. Theon Greyjoy first, then Jaime Lannister and Cersei and the Imp. Every one, every one. But my girls -"

"The queen," Brienne interrupted awkwardly. "The queen has two girls of her own. And two sons as well. The sons are of an age with yours. When she hears of your sons, perhaps she ... she will have to take pity."

Catelyn shook her head, "Send my daughters back unharmed?" Catelyn asked her, shaking her head slightly. "No, I fear that even if both my daughters are not dead they are lost to me. Cersei will never relinquish her hold on them. She is too smart for that. It is the only hold she has over my son. Though a weak hold at that."

She pushed herself away from the table, the smell of the food was making her feel sick to her stomach, she could not sit there anymore. She paused, sending an apologetic look at Brienne, "I am sorry, Lady Brienne," she told the young woman. "I must beg your leave. I would mourn my sons on my own."

Brienne nodded, "There is nothing to forgive, My Lady," she told her. "I am here to serve you as you see fit. If there is anything I can do, I beg you to ask."

Catelyn had been so sure that there was nothing Brienne could do for her that she had shaken her head. She did not know that later that night she would indeed be asking Brienne for her help.

-.-.-.-.-

Cersei

The supper had gone very well. She had smiled at her brother's jokes, pretended to accept his answers to all of her questions, and lured him into a false security with the food and wine. Her younger brother was a clever little thing, but he was not as clever as he thought he was. And she had discovered his weakness.

It should not be a surprise to him, she had told him the day he sent Myrcella away that she would get her revenge. He knew that she was angry at him. And still he sent his men to kidnap Tommen when she sent him away from King's Landing.

He claimed to care about her children, he claimed to love them. But he was doing nothing to bring Lenora home. He had sent Myrcella away against Cersei's wishes. When she had finally seen reason she had sent Tommen away and the Imp captured him and brought him back to danger in King's Landing. And now he wanted to take away Joffrey's best guard and put the boy in battle.

He could not care for her children, she was sure of that. If he truly cared for them he would not put them all in such danger.

He would change his mind about protecting her children when he learned what she had discovered. She had finally found it, the one thing that Tyrion did care for, the one thing that he did love. And he had been stupid enough to give her a golden lion necklace.

The fool.

"I hope that you like blackberry tarts," she told him as dessert was brought in.

"I love all sorts of tarts," her brother joked.

Cersei shook her head, moving away from the table. Her brother was always so crass, always sure that he was the most clever in the room. Tonight that would be his downfall. "Do you know why Varys is so dangerous?" she asked him.

She could practically hear Tyrion's eyes roll, "Because he has thousands of spies in his employ," her brother guessed. "Because he knows everything we do before we do it."

"Because he doesn't have a cock," Cersei cut in before the little man could guess anymore. She was tired of hearing his voice.

He lowered his voice into a whisper, as if he were telling her a secret, when he said, "Neither do you."

She finally turned back to him, lowering her voice to a whisper and hiss, knowing that he would be able to hear every word. That he would be hanging on to her every word as if it were a lifeline. "Perhaps I'm dangerous too," she told him. "You on the other hand are as big a fool as every other man. That little worm between your legs does half your thinking."

"It's not that little," Tyrion defended as if that was the most important thing she had said.

She laughed at him, cruel, and took a step closer to the table. She did not say anything to him, instead she took a sip of wine and smiled at him over the top of her glass. Her smile would make him more nervous than anything that she had to say. He watched her for a moment, shifting a bit in his seat. "You've never shown much interest in my cock before," he told her. For a moment she truly thought she had him, but then he raised his eyebrows, "Missing Jaime that much?" he asked.

It was a disgusting joke and she should have had him beaten for it. But she would not give him the pleasure of knowing that he had gotten to her. She moved to the seat next to him and sat down, leaning across the corner of the table to get as close as possible to him. "It's not your cock that interests me, so much as what you stick it in."

His eyes narrowed, "What are you trying to say?" he asked.

"Only this - I have your little whore."

For a moment his face tensed, she had him worried. Her eyes scanned his face as he forced a look of indifference onto it, "I thought you preferred blondes."

She chuckled once, "Such a droll little fellow. Tell me, have you married this one yet?" She gave him a moment to answer and when he didn't she smiled at him softly. "No? Good," she leaned back in her chair, "Father will be so pleased."

He took a long sip of wine, stalling. "Why do you care who I fuck?" he asked her.

"Because a Lannister always pays her debts," Cersei told him. Then for good measure she began to list the debts she was paying him back for. "You refuse to rescue my eldest daughter, you stole my youngest girl, you brought Tommen back to the capitol so that you could use him to control me, and you plot to have Joffrey murdered on the battlefield. No doubt you want him dead so that you can rule the Kingdoms through Tommen."

"This is madness," Tyrion told her, though his voice was tense and worried. "Stannis will be here within days. You need me."

That was laughable, she could not think of one reason why she might need him. Did he plan on leading sorties himself? "For what?" she asked him. "Your great prowess in battle?"

"Bronn's sellswords will never fight without me," he told her.

A lie and they both knew it. She did not even bother to acknowledge what he had said, it was so ridiculous. "Have no fear," she told him, her voice gentle. "You are safe from me. Though I won't say that I haven't thought of slitting your throat from time to time, but Jaime would never forgive me if I did." She was quiet for a moment, letting that fact sink in for him. As far as she was concerned he was only alive for the love she had for their brother.

"Pretty little thing," she told him after a moment. "Your whore. Lovely body, really. The bruises will heal in time." She smiled at the look on her brother's face. No doubt he wanted desperately to tell her that the woman did not matter to him. But he couldn't, his face told her the truth. She had him.

"Where did you find her?" he asked, each word a struggle for him.

"Varys isn't the only one who hears whispers," Cersei told him. Then she shook her head in mock disappointment, "Really, a Lannister lion necklace? You need to hide your secret whores more carefully."

She watched him for a moment, smirking when his hands clenched into fists on the arms of his chair. "She'll be treated gently enough," she told him as if that would soothe him. "So long as no harm comes to my children. Any of them. If any of them are harmed then your little cunt will die more painfully than you could possibly imagine."

A look of alarm crossed over her brother's face. "The children are safe," he told her. "Gods be good Cersei, they're my own blood! What sort of man do you take me for?"

"A small and twisted one," Cersei answered honestly.

He was quiet for a moment, she was sure that he was trying to find a way to outsmart her. There wasn't a way. She had him and they both knew it. "For all I know, you've killed her already."

"Would you like to see her?" Cersei asked him, smiling. "I thought you might." She didn't look away from him, but she raised her voice, "Ser Mandon, bring in my brother's whore."

Tyrion glared at her for a moment, but the second the door to her chamber opened he turned to watch her be brought in. The girl had fought when Cersei had sent her men to get her from the whorehouse. She had fought and she had lost. Her eyes were wide with fear now, her face pale. Blood trickled from her broken lip and bruises covered her body.

He watched her for a moment before he stood from his chair and walked closer to her. "I'm sorry they hurt you," he told her, his voice was soft, but Cersei could hear it from where she sat.

"Bruises heal," she told her brother before the girl could speak. "The whore will live. So long as my children do."

He did not turn to look at her. He continued to stare at his whore as if she were the only thing in the room. "You must be brave," he told her. "I promise I will free you," he told the redheaded girl.

"Don't forget me, My Lord," she told him, her voice soft.

"Never," Tyrion told her.

Cersei snapped her fingers, it was all very touching, but she would not give her brother the satisfaction of any more time spent with his whore. He had seen that she was very much alive, if only a little injured. That was the purpose of this entire evening. So that he would know that she had power over him. That he could play with and manipulate her children, but that she could do the same with the woman that he loved.

Her men quickly pulled the girl from the room. Tyrion stood there for a moment, his back turned to her before he spoke. "I have never liked you, Cersei," he told her. "But you were my own sister, so I never did you harm. You've ended that. I will hurt you for this. I don't know how yet, but give me time. A day will come when you think yourself safe and happy, and suddenly your joy will turn to ashes in your mouth, and you'll know the debt is paid."

She could remember a time when her father had come to King's Landing for one of Joffrey's name day celebrations. On his last day in the capitol he had brought Lenora and Joffrey into his solar and the two children had sat down while Tywin had told them about the sacking of King's Landing. She had stood outside the door, peeking around the frame and she had heard her father tell them that a battle is over in the instant one army breaks and flees. No matter that they're as numerous as they were a moment before, still armed and armored, once they had run before you they would not turn to fight again.

So it was this night. She had not realized it, but when she had let her brother get away with threatening her children she had run. It was too late to fight now. The only thing she could manage was to yell at him to get out of her sight.

He had stood there, watching her for a moment before he nodded. "Good night," the little monster had told her. "And pleasant dreams." Then he had waddled from her chambers.

Angry tears prickled at her eyes as she stared at the spot where he had once stood. She had never loved her brother, she couldn't - not after he had killed her mother to tear his way into the world. She had never believed that he had loved her. But she knew that he loved Jaime, the twisted little thing had practically worshiped their brother. And three of her children were Jaime's children as well.

Surely the monster would not do anything to Jaime's own children.

But Jaime was so far away. And Cersei had pushed him. Her brother was a lion after all. She had pushed him and he had pushed back.

She turned from her chamber and moved toward the windows. The shutters had been closed to keep out the smoke from Stannis' and Tyrion's fires. But now she threw them open. It was not fresh air she sought, but the moon. It was out there, shining weakly though smoke that filled the sky, but it was there.

She had hoped for a full moon, but it was only a crescent, a little sliver of light in the sky. She squinted her eyes at it, wondering if Lenora and Myrcella were looking up at the same moon. She could still remember like it was yesterday, when the girls were still young, and it had finally dawned on Lenora that one day she and Myrcella would be married and sent away from their family in King's Landing.

She had been scared and worried, little tears streaking their way down her cheeks as she rushed into Cersei's chambers. She was maybe eight years old, still young enough to think that her tears could fix her problems. Cersei had asked her what was wrong and she had cried that she did not want to move to the North. She did not want to marry that boy. She wanted to stay in King's Landing forever. She did not want to leave her family.

How Cersei had wished that she could change her husband's mind, that she could promise her daughter that they would be able to be together forever. But she couldn't, and she would not lie to the child. So instead she pulled her daughter close and brought her to the window, lifting the small girl onto the sill so that they could both look up at the sky. "Do you see the moon, little love?" Cersei had asked her.

Lenora nodded, still sniffing back her tears.

Cersei had pressed a kiss to the top of her head, "Well, wherever you end up in the world. Whoever you marry. I promise you this, every night you look up at the sky at the moon and I will too. No matter where you are, no matter how far away, we will both be looking at the same moon. And that will keep us connected."

She had told the same thing to Myrcella the night before she left for Dorne.

She did not know if her daughters were looking up at the moon that night, though she hoped they were.

-.-.-.-.-

Robb

They would be leaving the Crag within the week. And Robb would be lying if he did not say that he was glad of it. He did not like what being there had done to Lenora.

She hadn't changed, per say, she was still his. But he could tell that being here was difficult for her. The castle, though rundown, no doubt reminded her of Casterly Rock. He would find her during the evenings in the library watching the sun set over the ocean with this wistful look in her eyes that he had never seen before.

This place was bringing back memories for her, memories of her mother and of the time that she had spent growing up on this coast with her uncles.

Lenora was not a stupid girl, she knew what the war meant. She knew that Robb's forces were fighting against her family. But with the exception of the Whispering Wood when he had captured the Kingslayer, he had fought only distant uncles or cousins. Being here, so close to her mother's family seat she was reminded that sooner, rather than later, Robb would march against her grandfather.

As upset as she was that her brother had employed a man to kill her she could not turn her back on her family easily. Here on the western coast of Westeros, staring out at the sea that she had spent so much time near as a young child, it was getting harder and harder.

He left her alone when she went to the library every evening, but it was dark now and she was standing outside in the courtyard, staring up at the sky. He quietly walked through the yard toward her. She didn't seem to hear him, at least she did not turn around. But when he came to stand behind her and placed his hand on her shoulder she leaned into his touch, sighing almost peacefully.

"Where are you?" he asked her, his voice soft, he seemed to have interrupted a moment and he did not want to interrupt it any further than he already had.

It took Lenora a moment to drag her eyes away from the sky above them. When she finally did there was a sad smile on her face, "Here," she told him, "at the Crag."

Robb shook his head, his right hand lifting so that he could cup her cheek in his hand, "No you're not," he told her. "Your body is here, but your mind is somewhere else." He paused for a moment, letting his words sink in. "Where are you, Nora?" he asked her again.

She leaned into his hand for a moment, her eyes closing for a second. "I was looking at the moon," she told him once she had opened her eyes. Robb stayed quiet, waiting for more. She sighed, "And I was in King's Landing with my mother."

He had expected as much. When he had seen her standing alone in the dark like that he had assumed that she was thinking about her family. "What were you thinking about?" he asked her.

"When I was a child," Lenora told him, lifting her face out of his hand so that she could turn in his arms and look back at the sky. "We were five when our betrothal was announced. I don't know about you, but I didn't know what that meant. I just knew that I got a new gown for the occasion. It wasn't until I was eight that I realized that betrothal meant marriage and marriage meant leaving King's Landing."

Robb smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. The betrothal had not been as hard for him He had grown up knowing that he was to be the Lord of Winterfell once his father died. When he was old enough to understand what his betrothal to Lenora meant it had not been such a shock to him. Of course he would take a wife, Winterfell would need a Lady. It had been easier for him because he would never have to leave home.

A smile made its way onto Lenora's lips, soft and sad. "I ran into my mother's chambers screaming and crying because the last thing I could ever imagine doing was leaving King's Landing to live somewhere else. Visiting would be fine, as long as I always had the Red Keep to come home to. I was not a stupid child, it had just never occurred to me that I would leave. My mother was married and she lived in King's Landing after all, I had assumed it would be the same for me. And then one day my septa made a comment, When you're running Winterfell ..."

Robb chuckled, "That was when you realized you would have to leave King's Landing?"

Lenora nodded, "And my family. So I ran to my mother, hoping that she would be able to change my father's mind. I had lived in Casterly Rock for five years. I had just been returned to them as far as I was concerned. Didn't my parents want me? Didn't they enjoy having me around? Wouldn't they miss me?" She shook her head, "My mother wrapped her arms around me and brought me to a window. She lifted me up to sit on the sill so that we could both lean out and she told me to look at the sky."

"At the moon," Robb supplied.

Lenora nodded, "She told me that whenever I missed her I was to go outside and look up at the moon. She told me that she would look up at the sky every night. And that no matter where I went in the world, even up to Winterfell, it was the same moon. It would keep us connected."

"You miss her?" Robb asked her, forcing himself to keep his tone light. He did not want her to take his words as an accusation. She was allowed to miss her mother, even if they were on opposite sides of a war. As long as she didn't act on it.

"I miss all of them," Lenora told him, her voice quiet and resigned. "My mother can be harsh and she can be cold. But she could also love me like no one else could. And no matter what the situation she always had advice." She paused for a moment, her lips quirking up slightly, "It was not always good advice, but she believed in it."

"What else?" Robb asked her.

"I miss the trust I had in Jaime," she told him, being completely candid. "I always felt so safe with him, I felt invincible with him at my side. But I've lost that now. And I miss debating things with Tyrion. He was always so quick, he always has an answer for everything, and unlike my mother, his answers are usually right. Myrcella and I never had much in common, she was so much younger than me and a proper Lady from the day she was born. But she used to let me brush her hair in the evenings, I was so jealous of her golden hair. It looked like our mother's and I wished that I had something that so easily identified me as my mother's child."

Robb smiled at that, Lenora wouldn't have realized it when she was younger, but she did have something of her mother's. A lot could be said about Cersei Lannister, but the woman was smart and she was fierce, stubborn and determined. And those were some of his favorite things about Lenora. "You've got her cheek bones," he told her instead. "I noticed that the first time I saw the two of you together."

Lenora nodded, "We all do," she told him. "Once the baby fat melts away even Tommen will have those Lannister cheek bones." She was quiet for another moment, "He's older than Rickon," she told him, for a moment forgetting that the boys were gone, Robb's heart clenched painfully in his chest, but a moment later the pain lessened. "But he's still a baby. His nurse tells him bedtime stories every night to get him to sleep."

"You haven't said anything about Joffrey," Robb reminded her.

Lenora shook her head, the wistful smile that had slipped onto her lips when she talked about Tommen quickly hardened into a frown and her jaw clenched. "He tried to kill me," she told him, her voice as hard as stone. "Whatever he is, he is not my brother." She turned to look at him, "In truth I came out here to say goodbye," she told him.

"To Joffrey?" Robb asked.

"To all of them," Lenora told him. "They were my family. I've loved them my whole life. But what my brother - what Joffrey has done," she shook her head. "To your father, to your family, to your sister no doubt, to me - it's unforgivable." She grabbed onto his arm desperately, her fingernails digging into his shirt sleeve. "You must promise me something," she told him.

"Anything," Robb told her, already prepared to give her the world if she asked for it.

"When we get to King's Landing. When this war is over and you have taken the city. You must give Joffrey to me."

"Nora," Robb started, shaking his head.

She interrupted him, "I mean it, Robb. He tried to kill me. He was afraid of me and in his fear he underestimated me. He failed. I am still alive. And when we take the city I want him to know exactly why he should fear me. I want him to see what it looks like to kill someone with honor. I will not send a man after him. I will not pay for his head. I will take it myself."

"Could you really do that?" Robb asked her. "You say he is not your brother, but you grew up with him."

"You grew up with Theon," Lenora threw back at him. "Has anyone questioned whether or not you will be able to take his head when he's brought before you?"

Robb shook his head, she had him there. "But he's your blood," he tried.

Lenora paused for a moment, taking a deep breath, "I was his blood. It did not matter to him that I had been there from the day he was born. I heard his first cries. Watched over him as he was bathed and fed and put to bed. And I was there for every day after that. And none of that mattered. If he does not think of me as a sister then I have his leave to not look at him as my brother."

"And what about the rest of your family?" Robb asked her.

Lenora's jaw clenched, "If they surrender then will have my forgiveness and my love," she told him. "But if they stand in my way then I will kill them too."

Robb stared down at her in surprise. He had come out here because he believed that being so close to Casterly Rock would be difficult for her. That it would make her question her decision to support him. But instead it seemed to have had the opposite effect on the girl. She was more sure of herself than ever. She knew exactly what she wanted. She knew where her heart was. And she was determined to see this war through.

She turned and looked at him, her eyes soft, "You haven't promised me, Robb," she reminded him, her voice gentle. "I need your word."

Robb nodded, "You have it," he assured her quietly. His men wouldn't understand it, none of his bannermen would, but he understood her. He understood why she needed this so desperately. "Joffrey's head is yours."

There were tears in her eyes and one sliding down her cheek when she nodded before she turned to look up at the moon again. Robb held her in silence for a few minutes, letting the weight of her decision sink in and then giving her time to dry her eyes.

Then to distract her he straightened out his right arm so that it was no longer wrapped around her and extended it toward the sky, folding in all of his fingers except for his thumb. "My father once told me that no matter where you are in the world, if you hold up your thumb and squint one of your eyes the moon will always be the smaller than your thumb."

He didn't know why he told her that. It was a useless piece of information. He didn't even know why he remembered it, it had been so long since Ned had told him that. But whatever the reason it did the trick, Lenora extended her right arm as well, her thumb next to his and she closed one eye and then the other, testing out his theory and smiling when it worked.

"Ask me again," she ordered him once she had dropped her thumb. Robb raised his eyebrows, unsure of what he was supposed to ask her. "Ask me where I am," she clarified.

He nodded, "Where are you, Nora?" he asked.

She turned in his arms, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and rocking up on her tip toes so that she could press her lips against his. She kissed him for a few minutes, her tongue even slipped between his open lips to battle with his own. When she pulled away to take few deep breaths she smiled at him softly, "I'm right where I am meant to be," she assured him. "With you."

Author's Note:

And I'm back! Did you guys miss me last week? I missed you guys! And I missed Robb and Lenora. So I'm really glad that this was the chapter that I got to come back on. It was a major character development moment for Lenora all wrapped up in Robb/Lenora mush and feels.
And I hope that you guys enjoyed it as much as I did!
If you did you should write a review in that box down there, like all the cool cats who reviewed on the last chapter. They not only get my thanks, but they get answers to their questions because I'm a cool cat too.
At least that's what my mother used to tell me.

RHatch89: Thank you! I'm glad you liked it and I hope that this one was equally as awesome!

DannyBlack70: I have been looking forward to the Joffrey point of view since I decided to write it. And I'm glad it went over as well as it did! Thank you!

Doppelganger13: Hello new friend! I'm glad that you enjoyed reading the story so far and that you don't regret the couple hours it took to read! I hope that this chapter continued the trend!

ZabuzasGirl: Thank you for your review!

darkwolf76: Hello! Yeah, Joffrey has no redeemable qualities as far as I'm concerned. Absolutely none. He's a vile excuse for a human being. But Cersei and Jaime ... those ones are a little more grey. I truly think that once you get Jaime away from Cersei he has the potential to become a decent human being (as evidenced by how I portray him in this story) and Cersei, well Cersei's a bitch. But I love her. And for the most part you can trace all of her unforgivable behavior to a misguided attempt to protect her children. She's not evil like Joffrey, just cruel for her own entertainment, she's cruel and vicious, but she thinks she has a reason for it. And I hope that I portray that in this story.
Will there be any baby Starks? At the moment I'm leaning toward no, at least not any time soon. If you pay attention to the GoT timeline we're getting a bit close to the Red Wedding and that's going to be messy enough, as it is, without adding a baby
As for your other question. I can't answer it today, but there's a chapter coming up soon (within the next week) that deals with the Freys. They're not going to betray Robb because he broke a betrothal (obviously because he was already taken) but Lord Walder is already known to be a horrible bannerman, so I imagine that it would not take much for him to betray Robb, even without an insult to his daughters and his family.

amrawo: Hello new friend! I'm glad that you found the story and that you got caught up in a weekend. I'm sorry you had to wait a week for the update, but I hope it was worth it!

magclot23: Thank you. I was both super excited and super nervous about the Joffrey section. Excited because he's a little jerk and I could not wait to get inside his head. But nervous because I was worried I wouldn't do him justice. That it would fall flat. So I'm glad you enjoyed it!

casper6six6: Thank you for your review! I'm glad that you're enjoying the story so far and I hope that you enjoyed this chapter just as much!

sltsky96: You noticed that did you? Yes, Lenora's response to her miscarriage is very similar to how Cersei might respond to similar circumstances. It's very similar to how Cersei reacted when she found out that Lenora was a girl after she was born. Cold, detached, and distant. As angry and betrayed as Lenora feels, she is her mother's daughter. And that's something she is going to have to come to terms with before the end of the story.
She's not going to get to a point where she can really talk about it with Robb any time soon. But I can promise that she will before the end of the story.
And she will get to fight in more battles, she is too feisty to sit on the side lines now that she's gotten a taste of it.
Thank you so much for your review. I'm glad you've enjoyed the story so far! And you definitely should write more. When I started this story I didn't realize it would get this much of a response, but I'm so glad I kept with it.

That's all I've got for now. Though that was nine reviews! I don't think I've ever gotten nine reviews on one chapter before. Hold on ... let me check. Nope. Never. That's the most reviews on a single chapter I've ever gotten. So thank you!
See you here tomorrow, you cool cats!
Chloe Jane.