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 and I am in Toronto right now. Because I'm going to a Cavs game this afternoon. (My dad and I are really excited!)

Oh! And also! Just so you know, we have pretty much officially reached the half way point of this story. There are eighty-three chapters in total. And we are on forty-one. Halfway! Yay!

Chapter Forty-One: Home

Robb

Lenora wrenched her hand out of his grasp and stood from her chair the moment the steward banged his staff against the ground to call the audience to an end. It did not surprise him, he had expected it. He watched as the girl stepped quickly down from the dais so that she could place one of her hands on Catelyn's shoulders and whisper in her ear.

He was surprised for a moment when Lady Mormont moved closer to his mother and took Catelyn's hand between hers, "My Lady, if Cersei Lannister held two of my daughters, I would have done the same," the woman promised his mother.

But even that made sense. Both Lenora and Lady Mormont were women. They fought like warriors, but they had soft hearts. Of course the two of them would sympathize with his mother. What was truly shocking was when the Greatjon approached and lifted Catelyn off her feet, squeezing her arms tightly as he boomed, "Your wolf pup mauled the Kingslayer once, he'll do it again if need be."

The rest of his bannermen were cooler, but they were polite, no one besides Lord Karstark had yelled at her.

Robb walked down from the dais and brushed past his mother without saying anything. He needed her counsel, but he would not be kind to her, he could not. He led his mother, his uncles, and Lenora out of the Great Hall and to his solar. Grey Wind was waiting for them there. Lenora patted the wolf on his head as she swept past him to put her crown away and Robb did not miss the look of relief on his mother's face when her eyes landed on the wolf.

"Why wasn't Grey Wind in the hall?" Catelyn asked once the door had shut behind them.

"A hall is no place for a wolf," Robb told his mother, avoiding Lenora's sharp gaze. They had fought about this the week before. She did not like that since taking the Crag he had kept Grey Wind by his side less than usual. But Grey Wind made all the Westerlings, save Rollam, uneasy and he had thought it only right while staying in their castle not to have the wolf around if it would make them uncomfortable.

The Westerlings had sworn their fealty to Robb and they and their fifty knights had traveled to Riverrun with him. If they served him well during the war he had promised to return the Crag to them. They would be staying at Riverrun for now and the girls, Jeyne and her sister Elenya, were gentle nervous things who frightened easily. It was better to keep Grey Wind away than to have them screaming every time they saw the wolf.

"He gets restless," he continued, "you've seen. Growling and snapping. I should never have taken him into battle with me. He's killed too many men to fear them now."

"Tell her the truth of it," Lenora ordered as she dropped down beside the wolf so that she could hold his face between her hands and kiss the top of his head. "He brought him up here because Grey Wind scares them."

"Them?" Catelyn asked, looking between Robb and Lenora.

"The Westerlings," Lenora told his mother. Robb smirked, Lenora swore to the Gods that she was not jealous of Jeyne Westerling, but she certainly did not like the girl or most of her family. And she did nothing to hide that fact. "Robb's newest bannermen. And the way they tell it his fiercest."

Robb sighed, "House Westerling are the Lords of the Crag," he told his mother. "They surrendered and swore me their fealty before we left to return here. They're a small house and a poor house, but Lord Tywin will not take it lightly when he hears that they have changed their allegiance and that they now declare for us."

Catelyn raised her eyebrows before she turned to Lenora, "Your grandfather's bannermen?" she asked. Lenora looked up from the wolf and nodded silently. "And you trust them?" Catelyn pressed.

Lenora started to shake her head, but she quickly stopped when Robb turned to look at her. "Grey Wind does not like them," she told Catelyn honestly. "He growls and snaps at them. The two daughters are anxious around him and he terrifies the Lady Sybell."

Catelyn turned to Robb, "He is part of you, Robb," she told him, her voice anxious. "To fear him is to fear you."

"I am not a wolf, no matter what they call me," Robb snapped at his mother. He and Lenora had already had this conversation and after what his mother had done she had no right to lecture him about anything. Least of all this. "Grey Wind killed two men at the Crag, another at Ashemark, and six or seven at Oxcross. If you had seen -"

"I saw Bran's wolf tear out a man's throat at Winterfell," Catelyn interrupted him sharply. "And loved him for it."

Lenora shook her head, "I've tried," she told Catelyn as she began to stand from the floor. "I've asked him to send the Westerling men away and he won't do that either. I told him that they could swear fealty all they wanted, but I did not want Ser Rolph or Ser Raynald near him."

Catelyn nodded, "Robb," she entreated him, stepping closer to him, "We told you once to keep Theon Greyjoy close, and you did not listen. Listen now. Send the men away. I'm not saying you must banish them. Find some task that requires men of courage, some honorable duty, what it is matters not ... but do not keep them near you."

Robb looked between the two women, his mother and his wife. "Should I have Grey Wind sniff all my knights?" he asked them, smirking. "There might be others whose smell he mislikes."

He was making light of their concerns and he could see by the hard set of Lenora's shoulders that she did not appreciate it. "Any man Grey Wind mislikes is a man I do not want close to my husband," she told him, her tone leaving no more room for argument. "These wolves are more than wolves, Robb. You must know that by now. Gifts from your father's gods."

Catelyn nodded, "Five wolf pups, Robb," she reminded him. "Five for five Stark children."

"Six," Robb shot back at her. "There was a wolf for Jon as well. I found them, remember? I know how many there were and where they came from. I used to think the same as the two of you, that the wolves were our guardians, our protectors, until ..."

"Until?" Catelyn prompted.

Lenora moved closer to him and reached out for his hand, she was upset with him, but she would still comfort him. He wrapped both of his hands around her small one and squeezed tightly, "Until Nora told me that Theon had murdered Bran and Rickon. Small good their wolves did them. I am no longer a boy, Mother. I am a king and I can protect myself." Lenora's hand tried to tighten into a fist between his hands. He sighed and shook his head, "I will find some duty for Ser Rolph and Ser Raynald," he told them, lifting his right hand from Lenora's hand to her face so that he could stroke her cheek. "Some pretext to send them away. Not because of their smell, but to ease your mind." He looked over Lenora's shoulder at his mother, "You have suffered enough."

Lenora pressed a kiss against his cheek before she led him to the table. Robb took the high seat and took off his crown, showing less care for it than Lenora had shown for hers by dropping it to the floor by his feet. Catelyn rang for wine while her brother and her uncle took their seats, Edmure talking to the Blackfish nonstop about the fight at the Stone Mill. It was only once the servants had come and gone that the Blackfish cleared his throat, "I think we've all heard sufficient of your boasting, Nephew," he growled at Edmure.

Edmure seemed taken aback. "Boasting?" he asked. "What do you mean?" He turned toward Robb, "If I may, Nephew," he started, this time addressing Robb instead of his uncle. "I encountered a situation with one of my lieutenants at the Stone Mill -"

"I thought I told you to shut up about that damn mill," the Blackfish interrupted. "And don't call him nephew, he's your King. You're lucky I'm not your king," he continued. "I would not have had his forbearance. He played out that mummer's face in the Great Hall so as not to shame you before your own people. Had it been me I would have flayed you for your stupidity rather than praising this folly of the fords."

"My folly sent Lord Tywin's mad dog scurrying back to Casterly Rock with his tail between his legs. I think that Robb understands that we're not going to win this war if he's the only one winning any battles. There's glory enough to go around."

Robb had kept quiet until this point, but he could not any longer, "It's not about glory," he snapped, his voice icy. "And it's Your Grace, not Robb. The Blackfish is right, you took me for your king, Uncle. Or have you forgotten that as well as your instructions?"

"You were commanded to hold Riverrun, Edmure, no more," the Blackfish told him.

"I held it," Edmure argued back. "And I seized an opportunity."

"What value was the mill?" Robb asked.

"The Mountain was garrisoned across the river from it."

"Is he there now?" Robb asked.

"Of course not," Edmure told him. "We took the fight to him. He could not withstand us." He turned to glare at the Blackfish, "I held Riverrun and I bloodied Lord Tywin's nose."

"So you did," Lenora told him, speaking up for the first time since they had sat at the table. Her voice was quiet, but her eyes were hard. There was one thing that Lenora Baratheon, Lord Tywin Lannister's granddaughter could not forgive, it would seem. And that was failure to follow instructions in battle. "And a bloody nose will win the war, is that the way of it?"

Robb nodded, "Did you ever think to ask yourself why we remained in the west so long after Oxcross? You knew I did not have enough men to threaten Lannisport or Casterly Rock."

"There were other castles ... gold, cattle ..."

Lenora laughed, though there was no humor to it and she shook her head, "Plunder, you mean?" she asked. She seemed disgusted by the fact that Edmure thought they stayed west just to steal from the western lords. She was already thinking in terms of the end of the war, when Robb would need these same western lords to back him. They would not do so if he completely destroyed their lands.

Robb's eyes narrowed as he turned on Edmure, "I wanted to draw them into the west. Into our country where we could surround them and kill them."

The Blackfish nodded, "We wanted them to chase us," he told his nephew. "We were all horsed. The Lannister host was mainly foot. We planned to run Lord Tywin and his Mad Dog a merry chase up and down the coast, then slip behind them to take up a strong defensive position athwart the Gold Road. If he had come at us there, he would have paid a grievous price. But if he did not attack he would have been trapped in the west, a thousand leagues from where he needed to be. All the while we would have lived off his land, instead of him living off ours."

Robb nodded, "Lord Stannis was about to fall upon King's Landing," he told Edmure. "He might have rid us of Joffrey, the queen, and the Imp in one red stroke," Lenora flinched beside him at the mention of the Imp, but Robb was too angry at his uncle to comfort her. "Then I might have had peace," he shook his head. "But instead, I have mill."

"We took hostages," Edmure told him. "Willem Lannister. Martyn Lannister."

"Willem and Martyn Lannister are fourteen years old," Robb told him.

"Martyn is fifteen," Lenora spoke up. The men all turned to look at her. The Blackfish smirked.

"Lord Tywin holds my sisters," Robb told Edmure. "Have I sued for peace?" Edmure shook his head. Robb continued, "I have married Lord Tywin's granddaughter and I held his son," this time he glared at his mother. "Did Lord Tywin sue for peace?" Again, Edmure shook his head. "Then do you truly think that Lord Tywin will ask for peace now that we hold his father's, brother's great-grandsons?"

Edmure looked well and truly shamed now. "No," he said softly.

"How many men did you lose?" Lenora asked, her eyes narrowed. Robb and the Blackfish shared a look of pride. There was a reason that Lenora now sat in on all of his war councils. She had been trained by Tywin Lannister. She never let anger get in the way of getting to the point of the matter. Edmure had won at the mill, he had bloodied Lord Tywin's nose, but he had lost men to do it. Lenora knew that Robb needed to know how many.

Edmure swallowed, "Two hundred and eight, Your Grace," he told her, inclining his head. He turned back to Robb. "But for every man we lost, we -"

"We need our men more than Tywin needs his!" Robb yelled at him. "With the Freys -" he shook his head. "We need them more," he said again.

Edmure looked away and swallowed tightly. "I'm sorry," he told Robb, not quite looking him in the eye. "I didn't know."

"You would have," Robb told him. "Right here today at this gathering if you had been patient."

"We seem to be running short of patience here," the Blackfish cut in, his eyes darting between Edmure and Catelyn.

"You know who isn't?" Lenora asked them, her fists clenching at her sides as she stood from the table and walked toward the window. "Tywin Lannister."

-.-.-.-.-

Jaime

"Why did you take the oath?" the wench demanded that night as they made camp. "Why don the white cloak if you meant to betray all it stood for?"

Jaime sighed, the wench could not let it go. She had called him Kingslayer all day and now he was trying to sleep and she wouldn't let him because she wanted to ask him why he had killed the Mad King. He wasn't sure what he could tell her that she would understand. No one ever would, except for Cersei. "I was a boy. Fifteen," he told her. "It's a great honor for anyone, especially for someone so young."

She shook her head, displeased, "That's not an answer," she told him.

You would not like the truth he thought. He didn't even like the truth, not anymore. He had joined the Kingsguard for her. For Cersei. For love. When they were twelve and their father was still the Hand of the King he had summoned Cersei to court to live with him in the Tower of the Hand. No doubt he hoped that he would be able to make a royal marriage for her.

He did not bring Jaime, instead he sent his eldest son to Crakehall as a squire. By fourteen he had earned his spurs against the Kingswood Brotherhood. At fifteen he had stopped by King's Landing on his way back to Casterly Rock when Cersei had grabbed hold of him and whispered their father's plans for them in his ear. He meant to marry Cersei to either Viserys Targaryen once he was older, or to Rhaegar, if his sickly wife died in childbed. And Jaime? Was to be wed to Lysa Tully, Lord Tywin had gone as far as to invite Jon Arryn to court to discuss the dowry.

Jaime did not want to be married, least of all to Lysa Tully.

Cersei did not want him married either. She whispered to him about how Ser Harlan Grandison had died in his sleep, only appropriate as his sigil was a sleeping lion, and Aerys would want a young man to take the old man's place. So why not a roaring lion in place of a sleepy one?

Jaime knew that their father would never consent to that, but Cersei had an answer for that as well. The king would not ask their father, he would tell him. And their father knew better than to argue or stand against the Mad King.

"But," Jaime had argued, "There's Casterly Rock ..."

"Is it a rock you want? Or me?" Cersei asked him.

And at that time he had wanted her. More than anything he could have imagined. They made love for the first time that night, at an inn on Eel Alley, Cersei had come to him dressed as a simple serving wench and in all their times together Jaime had never seen her more passionate than she was that first night. She was insatiable and he could not wait to spend many more nights in a similar fashion.

But Lord Tywin was so angry a moon's turn later when Jaime got his raven telling him that he had been chosen for the Kingsguard that he retired his handship by the end of the fortnight and moved back to Casterly Rock, taking Cersei with him.

All he and his sister had done was trade places. Now, Jaime could not marry, but he got to stand guard when his sister married Robert Baratheon. After Lenora had been born Jaime could have left the King's Guard, he was sure that Robert would have allowed it, but again ... he stayed for love. This time the love of his niece. He could not leave the guardianship of his niece to just anyone so Jaime had stayed, despite the distaste he held for the king, despite the disapproval of the other six members of the Kingsguard, despite the hatred of the people of Westeros.

He joined for love of a woman. And he had stayed for the love of a different woman.

A little one.

But that was not the answer anyone wanted. And it was not one that anyone would understand.

Brienne was still waiting for his answer. She was stubborn enough that he knew she would not let it go until she had one. He sighed, "You are not old enough to have known Aerys Targaryen ..."

That was not the answer she wanted either. She would not accept it. She shook her head, "Aerys was mad," she told him. "Everyone knows that. He was cruel, no one has ever denied it. He was still king, crowned and anointed. And you had sworn to protect him."

"I know what I swore," Jaime almost yelled at her. That was what everyone reminded him of when they would ask him about the Mad King. But you swore, your vow was to protect him. Everyone, but Lenora had reminded him of his vows. One would think that they find something more original to throw at him by now.

"And what you did," she continued. She was standing above him, frowning down from six feet up. He could practically feel her disapproval, as if it were a cloak that she had dropped round his shoulders.

"And what I did," he agreed, dropping his eyes from her face. He couldn't stand the look of disapproval in her ice blue eyes.

"It is a rare and precious gift to be a knight," she told him, still judging him from on high. "And even more so a knight of the Kingsguard. It is a gift given to few, a gift you scorned and spoiled."

And a gift you want desperately Jaime thought, glaring at his foot. If she wanted it so badly she could have his damned white cloak. He did not want it anymore. "It was not a gift," he growled at her. "I earned my knighthood. Nothing was given to me. I won a tourney melee at thirteen, when I was still a squire. At fourteen, I rode with Ser Arthur Dayne against the Kingswood Brotherhood, and he knighted me on the battlefield. It was that white cloak that soiled me, not the other way around. So spare me your envy. It was the Gods who neglected to give you a cock, not me."

She left him alone then and he was grateful for it. He closed his eyes, hoping for pleasant dreams, of his life before he had been captured by the Stark boy, before this damned war, before they had gone to Winterfell when his family was still all together and on top.

But it was Aerys Targaryen he saw when he closed his eyes. The old Mad King pacing alone in his empty throne room, picking at the scabs on his hands. He was always cutting himself on the blades and barbs of the Iron Throne, Jaime smirked every time the King got a new cut; they said that the Iron Throne was cruel to anyone who did not deserve to sit on it. And it was cruel to Aerys.

Jaime had slipped in through the king's door, clad in his golden armor, his sword in his hand. Everyone always forgot that fact, that it was the golden armor he wore, not the white. But he had left that damned white cloak on, would that he had taken that off as well.

When Aerys saw the blood on his blade he had smiled madly, he demanded to know if it was Lord Tywin's, he had ordered Jaime to go after his father, to meet him and kill him. "I want him dead, the traitor. I want his head, you'll bring me his head, or you'll burn with all the rest. All the traitors. Rossart says they are inside the walls! He's gone to make them a warm welcome. Whose blood? Whose?"

They called him the Mad King in whispers, but Jaime had never seen him more mad than he was in that moment, demanding to know if Jaime had murdered his father yet. "Rossart's," he had answered, as calm as he could as he moved closer to the old man in front of him.

Those purple eyes grew huge then, the royal mouth dropped open in shock. He lost control of his bowels as he turned to run from Jaime. At least Rossart had had the balls to try to put up a fight. Though, he had fought like an alchemist. Jaime was younger and faster, as the king ran for the Iron Throne he took two steps and reached out, his hand closing around the man's shoulder. He hauled the last dragon king off the steps, squealing like a pig and smelling like its pen. A single slash across his throat was all it took to end it.

So easy, he remembered thinking. A king should die harder than this.

Ser Elys Westerling and Lord Crakehall and others of his father's knights burst into the hall in time to see the last of it. There was no way that Jaime could pretend it had not been he who had murdered the king. Nowhere for him to hide. No one else to steal the praise or blame. And it would be blame, he knew that the moment he saw their faces, the way they looked at him. Though perhaps, it was fear in their eyes. Lannister or no, he was one of Aerys' seven. One who had sworn to give his life for the king's, not the other way around.

"The castle is ours, Ser, and the city," Roland Crakehall told him. That was half true. There were still Targaryen loyalists fighting on the serpentine steps and Ned Stark was leading his Northmen through the King's Gate. Lannisters had taken the city, but they would not hold it.

"Tell them the Mad King is dead," he commanded. "Spare all those who yield and hold them captive."

"Shall I proclaim a new king as well?" Crakehall asked. A simple question, but Jaime, even so young, had been able to read the truth of it. Will it be your father or Robert Baratheon on the throne? Or perhaps, do you mean to make a new dragon king?

Aerys had two living sons left to him, a boy Viserys and an infant son Aegon. He thought about it for a moment, a boy dragon for a king with the lion Tywin Lannister as his hand and ruling through him till he come of age. The Stark wolves would hate it, and so would the storm lord. They had fought this war for vengeance. But then, he turned toward the Mad King and watched as his blood continued to spread across the floor. His blood is in both of them, he thought.

"Proclaim who you bloody well like," he had told Crakehall.

Then he climbed the Iron Throne and seated himself with his sword across his knees, waiting to see who would come to claim the kingdom. As it happened it was Eddard Stark, though he did not claim it for himself.

We would have been better off, Jaime thought now, if old dead Ned had taken the throne.

He had lived with Ned Stark's judgement ever since that day. He had lived with it even though he did not deserve it.

In his worst dreams, like the ones he had tonight, Jaime dreamed that he was unable to kill Rossart and the Mad King. And the dead came burning, gowned in swirling green flames. Jaime would dance around them with a golden sword, but for every one he struck down two more arose to take his place.

Brienne woke him with a boot in the ribs. And he would be liar if he said that he was not grateful for it.

-.-.-.-.-

Catelyn

She was still not allowed to leave her chambers unless Robb allowed it. But at least when she sent word that she wished to see Lenora they passed her message along to the young woman. She did not come until late in the afternoon, but when she was announced she walked in with a wide smile on her lips. "Lady Catelyn," she greeted as the servant shut the door behind her. "I would have come earlier, but I was out riding Casterly and no one passed your message along until just now."

Catelyn smiled at her, the woman in front of her had no reason to apologize. She was Queen in the North and Catelyn was a traitor in her son's eyes. But, it seemed, that she was not a traitor in Lenora's eyes. The girl reached out for her hand and squeezed it tightly, "I told you yesterday, but please allow me to tell you once more how truly sorry I am about the boys. Robb agreed to send Lord Bolton's bastard son to Winterfell when it was first captured, if we had thought for one second that Theon would do anything to harm them he would have gone himself, you must know that."

Catelyn nodded, she did know that. Robb would not have traded the Kingslayer for his sisters, but if he had known what Theon had intended for the boys he would have given up his war in a moment to go rescue them. Try as she may she could not hate him for it, just as she could not make him see that she had done the right thing for their family. "That is very kind of you," she told the girl after a moment. "Kinder than I deserve."

She was feeling the girl out, trying to decide if Lenora was against her as much as Robb was. She did not think so, but she needed to be sure before she continued. Lenora smiled at her sadly and shook her head, "Robb is stubborn," she told the woman. She gestured toward her, "Not that I need to tell you that, you know. He's a Northman and I've come to learn that they are all stubborn. He will come around, I'm sure of it." She nodded toward a seat, silently asking Catelyn if she could sit down.

"Of course," Catelyn told her, waving her over. "Would you like anything, Your Grace?"

Lenora smiled almost ruefully at that and shook her head, "I am well enough as it is," she told her. "And please, I get enough Your Graces from everyone else. To you, I will always be Lenora." She paused for a minute as she sat and arranged her skirts and then she looked up at Catelyn with a sly smirk on her face, "Now, why don't you tell me why you asked me here? What information do you mean to get from me that your stubborn son and his stubborn men won't give you?"

Catelyn almost smiled, this girl was intelligent. She knew the way of the world, that much was obvious. Robb had done well when he had kept his betrothal to her. "Robb mentioned something yesterday," she started as she sat down herself. "Just in passing, he did not explain it and no one else will explain it either. I was hoping that you would be willing to help me."

Lenora nodded, she did not look surprised at all by Catelyn's request, "The Freys," she said, not a question, though she did wait for Catelyn to nod before she said anything more. "Half of them have left," she admitted, her fists clenching in her lap for a moment before she forced her fingers to uncurl. "The day we left the Crag. We all set out together, but soon we were marching east for Riverrun and they were marching north toward the Twins."

"But surely Robb stopped them," Catelyn argued, shaking her head.

"He tried," Lenora told her with a shrug of her shoulders. "But what was he to do? Lord Walder gave him close to four thousand men. Was he going to execute the two thousand who left?"

"So Lord Walder has changed his allegiance," Catelyn assumed, her voice was hard. She should not have been surprised. Lord Walder Frey had always been a horrible bannerman. He came to war when it suited him, left war when it suited him, and, it seemed, changed sides when it suited him.

Lenora shook her head, "Half of his men are still with us, split between Robb's host and Lord Bolton's at Harrenhal. Lord Walder claimed that he needed the half that left to return to the Twins to help guard an attack from the Ironborn. They had Winterfell, of course, as well as Deepwood Motte and Moat Cailin. Naturally, Lord Walder believes the Twins will be next."

"Robb is his King," Catelyn argued, as if she could somehow prove to Lord Walder by talking to Lenora that he should not have taken his men away from Robb. "He could have ordered them to stay."

"And Lord Walder could have ordered all his men to leave if that were the case," Lenora told her with a shrug of her shoulders. "He swears that he is still Robb's man. He vows that all his men will return the moment Robb has need of them. But he says that he will not lose his castles to the squids. Robb did not have much of a leg to stand on, he let the River Lords return to their seats to protect their lands, Lord Walder only asks for the same courtesy."

"The Riverlands were actively under attack at the time," Catelyn pointed out.

Lenora arched one of her eyebrows, "Would you like to have that conversation with Walder Frey?" she asked her.

Catelyn stared at her for almost a minute before a laugh bubbled up in her throat. The girl was right. No matter what she wanted to say to Walder Frey she would not say anything for fear that it would cause the man to turn against her son. Robb would have seen it the same way, better to have half the Freys with the promise of the whole host should he need them than to not have any.

"You think it's something more though," she told the girl. It was her turn to make an assumption rather than ask a question. Lenora smiled at her and nodded. "Why do you think Lord Walder called so many of his men home?"

"I think he grows weary," Lenora told her honestly. "I think the war has lasted longer than he had originally hoped. It's been a year and there's still four of the five kings fighting over land. He is not as sure of Stark victory as he was in the beginning. Not after what happened to Stannis at King's Landing. Not with Highgarden declaring for Joffrey." She was quiet for a moment, "I think that the Highgarden alliance was a bigger blow to Lord Walder than to anyone else, Robb included."

Catelyn raised her eyebrows, "Why?" she asked the girl.

"Because Robb promised a marriage more than half a year ago for one of his daughters, a good marriage. And it has still not come to pass. Meanwhile, Margaery Tyrell has married one king, been widowed, and is now preparing to marry another. Lord Walder is wondering, perhaps, if his allegiance with the Starks is not as beneficial as he had hoped."

"What would you do?" Catelyn asked her.

"Give him something," Lenora told her. "Give him something that would soothe whatever wounded pride he is nursing now, and quiet his worries. Something that would bind him to our cause until the end."

Catelyn smiled at her, "Not something," she told the girl. "But someone."

Lenora nodded, "Robb has given the match no thought since the day he decided that he would not set me aside for one of the girls. Perhaps it is time that we give Lord Walder the marriage he was promised instead."

Catelyn watched the girl for a moment, "You are a product of your grandfather," she told the girl. It would not always be a compliment, but in these circumstances it was. Lenora understood war, she understood men, and she understood how to make the best of a bad situation. Not everyone was as lucky as she was.

Lenora shook her head, "Jaime raised me," she told Catelyn. "At least at the beginning. I may have my mother's cheekbones, and my father's looks. But it is Jaime who trained my sword arm and started to give me a soldier's mind."

Catelyn shook her head, "Not a soldier's mind," she told the girl. "A general's."

Lenora smiled, "How was he?" she asked after a moment. "When you saw him?"

She wanted to lie to the girl, to tell her that her uncle was well, but she knew that not only would Lenora recognize the lie, but she would not appreciate it. "He was not ill," she told the girl.

"But not healthy," Lenora added. She nodded, "Did he seem broken? The cell he was in before his escape attempt was bad enough. I cannot imagine where they put him after. I would hate for the dark and the loneliness to have broken his spirit."

Catelyn shook her head, "His spirit was still there," she assured her. "He asked a lot about you."

The right corner of Lenora's lips turned up for a moment, "The first time I saw him, after the Whispering Wood, he tried to tell me that even if Robb had not captured him he would have allowed himself to be brought to camp. He wanted me to believe that he would not leave without me. But now he's left."

"Not entirely on his own will," Catelyn admitted. "I got him drunk enough that he did not know what was happening when we threw him in the boat." The girl chuckled at that. "And he swore that he would come back for you," Catelyn added. "He swore to me that he would go to King's Landing and get my girls back, to send them home to me. But then he swore that he would come back after he had done that, and that this time when he left he would bring you home as well."

Lenora frowned at that, "I'm not entirely sure if I have a home now," she admitted before she glanced up at Catelyn. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "That was incredibly cruel of me considering the circumstances. I did not mean to offend."

Catelyn tried to tell her that she was not offended, but Lenora would not hear it. With another apology the young woman stood up and made a hurried excuse before she left Catelyn's chambers.

Catelyn watched the girl go with a sigh. The girl was right.

Neither of them had a home now.

Author's Note:

So the Freys are doubting their alliance with the Starks. That will never spell out anything good.
But I hope that this chapter was good.
If it was you should write a review. I love those. And that empty box down there is feeling lonely. Go on, you know you want to.
Write a review.
And to those of you who reviewed the last chapters, you guys are wonderful. You know that already though. (I'm sure I've told you before!)

RHatch89: Thank you!

Darkwolf76: Three reviews! I love it. Playing catch up were we? That's okay, I feel like a lot of people will be. You're not the only one not getting alert emails. There's something wrong with the site at the moment, and no one's fixed it yet. Though hopefully they will soon. By next week hopefully. It usually takes me three or four tries to update a chapter (yesterday it took me nine ... chapter forty finally actually posted at the airport while I was waiting to board my plane). So yeah, for the sake of my own patience I hope they fix this soon.
Now that I've rambled, to your reviews!
Chapter thirty-nine: Tyrion is a badass. And I love him for it. He's probably my favorite character in the series so I love the Battle of the Blackwater when we get to see his badassary. Though the show sold him short (pun intended).
Chapter forty: I'm glad you like the book/show canon fusion. I love the show, it's great. And if I had never read the books I would have no complaints about it. But I've read the books and there's just so much more in the books that I want to play with. And I love, love, love that I get to do that in this story.
Don't worry about the Red Wedding. Whatever happens, I'll get you guys through it.

Okay guys, I'll see you next Monday!
(But don't let my week sabbatical keep you from reviewing! I still read those!)
Chloe Jane