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'm a bitch. Not really. But I do have to apologize to you guys. This update is like weeks late, but life got in the way.
For starters I have been suffering from writer's block recently (at least as far as GoT stories go, but more on that later ...) so I broke my rules and I published all of my reserve chapters and I had to write this one before I published it.
Secondly I wasn't super excited about this chapter, it's a bit of a filler chapter really, setting things up for excitement in the future without really exciting me (please don't let that color how your read it though!) so I didn't jump at the chance to write it.
Third I went on vacation, and then I had two separate groups of friends visit me on my off weeks. Didn't have much time for writing while I was hanging out with them. So there you have it.
Then every year during the first week of June in celebration of Barricade Day I read Les Mis. During that time I fell WAY DOWN the Les Mis fanfiction rabbit hole. And I now have four Les Mis stories started and saved on my computer. FOUR. I'm super excited about those and writing them while I can (though I don't want to post them until I've finished) and neglecting GoT.
That being said, I'm SUPER exited about the new season so I'm more motivated to finish this story now. And I'm going to try to keep going. Though while I build up my reserve again ... the updates might not be coming as frequently.
Just know ... I haven't abandoned you.

Also, hey! I first published this story on June 11, 2016 ... so it's a month late, but happy anniversary guys! It's been a year since some of you first met Lenora. That's exciting.

Chapter Fifty-Six: A Fine Little Blade

Jaime

His father waited until he had been fitted with his golden hand before he sent for him again. He tried not to let it bother him that his father, who had once cared so much for his wellbeing, could not even look at him now that he had lost his hand. He tried not to let it bother him that his father thought him useless now.

He tried. But when his father's steward showed him into the solar his jaw clenched, his left hand fisted, his eyes narrowed. "Father," he greeted Lord Tywin, his voice hard and cruel.

His father glanced up from his desk, his green eyes darting toward Jaime's new golden hand before he glanced away, dismissive. Though he was not sure why he felt ashamed he did, Jaime tucked his right hand behind his back so that his father would not be offended by the sight. "You wished to see me," he continued when his father did not say anything in response to his greeting.

"Yes," Tywin told him, standing up from his desk and moving around it toward the table in front of the fire. "I wished to speak with you," his father told him.

"I assumed as much," Jaime told him, trying to keep the bitterness out of his tone. He wished his father would get on with whatever it was that he wanted to discuss. His father had never been one for smalltalk and Jaime doubted it had changed now. But unless Lord Tywin wished to discuss releasing Sansa Stark and sending her back to her mother he did not want to hear a word from his father.

"But first I wish to give you something," Lord Tywin told him, surprising Jaime as he began to open a chest that was sitting on the table in front of the fire.

"An explanation for why you will not send the Stark girl home, I hope?"

Lord Tywin seemed to smirk at that request, "I'm afraid that you're very behind on the times, Jaime," he told him, chuckling almost as he spoke. "I don't doubt that you will soon be caught up. Rest assured though, Lady Catelyn Stark will not be holding you accountable to not returning her daughter." He turned toward the chest again and lifted something out of it.

Oilcloth.

Jaime's eyebrows lifted as he watched his father unwrap the oilcloth to reveal a sword. Not just any sword, a beautiful one. The likes of which Jaime had never seen before. The steel was black with red ripples running through it. The pommel was a gold lion's head with ruby eyes glittering in the firelight.

"Go on," his father commanded him, nodding toward the sword. "It is yours."

Jaime stared at the sword, transfixed for another moment before he reached out to take the sword in his hand. He made a mistake, he reached for the sword with his right hand, his golden hand, the hand that could not grasp the sword.

His father looked away, once again pretending that he did not notice Jaime's mistake, just as he had the night that Jaime had returned and almost spilled his wine. Jaime smirked, a dark chuckle escaping his lips, "A fine gift this is," he told his father. "A sword for a man without a sword hand." He glanced at the older man, "I assume you had this forged before I returned. You would not have wasted such steel on me had you known about this." He held his golden hand up, forcing his father to look at it.

"I had it forged for my son," Lord Tywin told him, his voice forceful. "Are you not my son, Jaime?" he asked.

Jaime smirked again, bitter and hurt. "Perhaps you should give it to Tyrion then," he suggested. "He is your son as well, and from what I hear tell of the Battle of the Blackwater he is quite the warrior."

"I had it forged for my son and heir," Tywin told him, adding an extra word to his statement. One little word that made it clear to Jaime that Tyrion would never get the sword, even if Jaime did turn down the sword. His father nodded toward the sword, "Take it," he told him, his voice stern. "With your left hand."

Jaime could have done without the cold reminder to use his left hand, but he did as he was bid. He lifted the sword with his left hand. It was lighter than he had imagined it would be, but it felt powerful. He lifted the sword from the oilcloth and gave it a clumsy, unpracticed swing. Even in his clumsy hand the blade sang as it moved through the air.

"Valyrian steel," he murmured more to himself than to his father. He glanced up, his eyebrows furrowed, "At last House Lannister has a Valyrian sword. How did that come about, Father?"

"House Lannister now has two Valyrian swords," Lord Tywin told him. "This one, and its brother that shall be given to the king on his wedding day." His eyes darted toward the blade, "As for how it came about, there was a longsword, the House it belonged to no longer had a need of it."

"Stolen then," Jaime murmured as he set the sword down on the oilcloth again. "It's a beautiful sword, Father," he told the older man. "But I cannot accept it. You say that it was forged for your heir. I am a member of the King's Guard, I cannot inherit lands or father sons. I am not your heir."

Lord Tywin stared at him. "You cannot mean to continue as a member of the King's Guard," he murmured, he looked surprised by Jaime's statement, though he should not have been. Jaime had gotten his stubbornness from his father, Lord Tywin should have recognized it. "What, with your -" his voice dropped off at the end of his statement, as if he were at a loss of how to end it. As if he did not want to end his statement.

"What with my hand?" Jaime asked, he was not afraid to talk about his missing hand, not anymore. Not now that he saw how uncomfortable it made his father. He shrugged his shoulders, "Men were given two hands for a reason," he told his father, his voice harsh. He sounded as if he believed it, even though he was not sure if he did. "I have lost my right hand, I shall learn to fight with my left."

"And you expect the king to wait until you learn?" Lord Tywin asked him, his eyebrows raised, skeptical.

"I was the best swordsman in the Seven Kingdoms," Jaime told him. "It will not take me long." He looked up at his father, "I made an oath when I joined the Kingsguard," he told his father. "One for life. I do not mean to break it now because some fool in the woods thought to cut off my hand."

Lord Tywin sighed, he was disappointed, Jaime could see that, and he did not care. "Be that as it may, the sword is yours."

...

Tyrion was waiting for him when he returned to his chambers, already half way through a glass of wine. Jaime chuckled when he saw his little brother. "By all means, little brother, help yourself."

"Should I have waited for you to pour it?" Tyrion asked without turning to look at him. "Something tells me that your left hand would have made a bit of a mess of it."

Jaime chuckled, surprised at how little it bothered him when his brother made light of his missing hand. "No doubt," he agreed as he moved around Tyrion's seat to take the empty one beside him. "Though I am sure you will manage quite well," he grabbed a glass of his own in his left hand and held it out toward Tyrion, waiting while his brother poured him some wine.

"Well, let's see it, then," Tyrion commanded him once he had poured the wine. For a moment Jaime thought that his brother meant the sword, though he was not sure how he would have known about it. "Your hand," Tyrion specified, gesturing toward Jaime's new hand. "I heard that it was made of gold in case someone forgot that you are a Lannister."

Jaime chuckled and held his hand up so that Tyrion could inspect it, the gold glittered prettily in the light. "When I was in the field, being dragged to Lord Bolton I promised myself that once I was returned to King's Landing, whenever that was, I would have a golden hand and that I would use it to kill the man who cut off my sword hand."

"I mean no offense," Tyrion told him. "But I've seen how clumsy your left hand is. Perhaps you should use your golden hand to fuck the man and let someone else kill him for you."

Jaime shook his head, taking a pensive sip of his wine, "Lannisters always pay their debts," he told his brother, as if he needed reminding. As if anyone in the Seven Kingdoms needed reminding. "And this debt is mine."

Tyrion nodded, "Then you will have to learn how to fight with your left hand," he told his brother. "As it were, I had a feeling that you would need to do that. I have a man who can teach you."

Jaime shook his head, "I will not be made a fool of," he told his brother. "I will not have men watch me fail, not I who was once the best sword in the Seven Kingdoms."

Tyrion shook his head, "This man is my man," he assured his brother. "I trust him completely. And if I trust him with my life, you can certainly trust him with your pride."

Jaime thought about it for a moment before he nodded, "Very well," he told his brother. "You will set it up?"

Tyrion smiled at him, smug and happy. "I already have, brother."

Jaime looked away, once again uncomfortable with the fact that it was Tyrion taking care of him, providing for him, protecting him when it should have been the other way around. He drank a long sip of wine, and then cleared his throat as he turned toward his brother. "Well, Tyrion," he commanded, "tell me the news! What has happened since I disappeared?"

Tyrion chuckled, finishing his wine and reaching out for the decanter so that he could pour himself some more. "How much time do you have?" he asked Jaime. "You've missed quite a bit."

"Just the highlights then," Jaime suggested with a bitter twist of his lips. He did not need to be reminded that he had been gone for so long. He knew exactly how long he had been prisoner. "Start with the most important and work your way back."

"We beat Stannis at the Battle of the Blackwater," Tyrion told him. "With the help of Highgarden and our father's forces. Stannis has retreated back to Dragonstone, like a whipped dog. It will not do him well to take up arms against us again. Stannis is no fool."

Jaime rolled his eyes, this was news he was already aware of, and it was not the most important news. "And do the people support Joffrey?" he asked. "Do Stannis' bannermen support Joffrey as their king?"

"They say that they do," Tyrion told him. "Though I imagine that it was more difficult for them to swallow than they had anticipated." He drank another long sip of wine, "To tell it true, I imagine that they would gladly back any other claimant to the throne over Joff," he told him. "Though it is treason to say it aloud."

Jaime shrugged his shoulders, "I imagine far more treasonous views are being shared in the streets," he assured his brother. "I saw a little of King's Landing's poor as I rode into the city. It's worse than I have ever seen it, even under Aerys. They cannot love him in the streets."

"They do not," Tyrion agreed with him. "But they love Lady Margaery Tyrell. She softens him in their eyes. She feeds them, clothes them, loves them and does it all in his name. They do not love him, but they have come to believe that she will force him to treat them well."

Jaime nodded, "Lady Margaery," he murmured, sipping his wine. "And how did that come about? Last I knew Joff was set to marry Sansa Stark. Why did he set her aside?"

Tyrion would not meet his eyes. He took a sip of wine, a long one. "He did not see it fit to marry the daughter of a known traitor," he told Jaime, his voice strained. "He set aside Lady Sansa in favor of honoring Highgarden and winning them to the Lannister cause forever."

"And so, Lady Sansa is set aside just like that?" Jaime asked.

"I wouldn't call her set aside," Tyrion muttered, glancing down at the wine in his glass. "Though I am sure that she wishes that were the case."

"How can she wish to have been set aside?" Jaime asked his brother. "The girl I saw at Winterfell wanted nothing more than to be married. What have they done to her?"

Tyrion sighed, still not meeting his eyes, "She was married," he told his older brother. "To a man far older than her, and not worth her youth and beauty."

"And this is why she cannot be returned to her mother?" Jaime asked. "Because she has been married off to some Lannister man?" he shook his head, he wasn't surprised by the fact, it did not shock him. It was just what his father would do. "Wedded and bedded, was she?"

Tyrion shrugged, "Wedded," he told his brother. "Though not bedded, that's for sure."

"And how do you know that?" Jaime asked, glancing over at his brother with furrowed brows.

Tyrion chuckled, low and dark, "Come now, brother," he told him, finally looking up to meet Jaime's gaze. "You've been in the Red Keep for at least a week. Surely you've heard the whispers. The beautiful Lady Sansa Stark forced to marry the Imp of Lannister."

Jaime stared at his brother, uncomprehending for almost a full minute before he started to laugh. Tyrion stared at him, as if surprised, but a moment later he began to laugh as well. "You could be kind, brother," he told Jaime, "and not laugh at my misfortune of having a beautiful wife who cannot stand me."

"But don't you see?" Jaime asked, "she is your wife, your wife that you have not yet bedded. You can set her aside and send her back to her mother."

"I cannot," Tyrion told him, his voice full of regret. "Surely you have heard those whispers as well?"

Jaime shook his head, "I have heard no whispers," he told his brother. "Save the ones about my golden hand."

"Her mother is no longer among the living."

Jaime glanced up, his gaze sharp and surprised. "I don't understand," he said, his voice soft with the shock of it. "How did you not lead with this? This is the important news."

Tyrion shrugged his shoulders, looking down again. "I wasn't sure how to tell you," he told him. "It was not done honorably."

"What?" Jaime asked, still not understanding. "What was not done honorably?"

"Lady Catelyn and Robb Stark were murdered, Jaime," Tyrion told him. "At the wedding of Lord Edmure Tully to Lady Roslyn Frey."

"A wedding?" Jaime asked. "Where they were guests?"

Tyrion nodded, "They're calling it the Red Wedding," he told his brother, finishing his glass of wine and reaching to fill it up for a third time. "All the Stark men were either killed, imprisoned, or scattered. There is no more Northern army."

"Lenora," Jaime breathed out, barely a whisper. "She would have been at the wedding too. As Edmure's queen, she would have been there. All the Stark men? What of Lenny?"

Tyrion smiled ruefully, "No harm came to Len during the wedding," he assured Jaime. "The attackers were careful with her, gentle with her. Though I fear she is heartbroken. Varys' spies claim that her husband was killed in front of her."

Jaime took a deep breath, he had not expected that. Even in his wildest, darkest thoughts he had not believed that anyone would be so cruel as to murder a woman's husband in front of her eyes. "And what is to happen to Len now?" he asked, his voice hard.

"She was to be sent back to King's Landing," Tyrion told him. "She was to be returned to us."

"And will she be?" Jaime asked.

Tyrion would not meet his gaze, "I do not know," he finally admitted. "She has not been sent home, no one has seen sight of her on the roads towards King's Landing. We fear that she has been taken and dragged north."

"And what is to be done about that?" Jaime asked. "Who will get her? Does Father have a plan?"

"He has a plan," Tyrion assured him. "To win the war. Once he has done that he will rescue Lenora." He paused for a moment as if he knew that what he was going to say next was going to hurt Jaime. "But not before. He requires victory before he risks Lannister soldiers to reclaim her."

Jaime felt his left hand clench into a fist, "She needs to be rescued," he told Tyrion.

Tyrion chuckled, "When has Lenora ever needed to be rescued?" he asked him.

-.-.-.-.-

Arya

Her mother was dead. Her brother was dead. Grey Wind was dead. Everyone was dying. All the Starks. Arya wondered if she would be the next one to go. The Hound's presence was reassurance enough that if she was the next Stark to die, it would not be under his watch. She hated the Hound, he was still on her list, but she was a little bit grateful that he was watching over her. Not that she would ever tell him that.

"I wonder what happened to Princess Lenora," she murmured on day three as they rode together. The Hound sitting behind her in the saddle of his giant black charger, Stranger.

The Hound was quiet for such a long moment that Arya wasn't sure if he had heard her. She was about to ask him again when she heard his low growl rumbling against her back. "The Little Princess will be fine," he growled. Arya couldn't be sure, but it sounded like the large man was trying to convince himself that Lenora would be alright.

"But how do you know?" she asked him, pressing him for more information.

"Did you not see what was happening back at the Twins, girl?" the Hound asked her.

"I didn't see much," she told him. "You knocked me unconscious so that I couldn't. Remember?"

"Before that," the Hound told her. "Your eyes were open, but you didn't see."

"I saw Bolton and Frey men attacking my brother's men!" Arya told him.

"And do you think they would have done that on their own?" the Hound asked. "Do you think they would have planned that on their own? Acted without some reassurance that they would be safe? Some sort of reward for betraying their king?"

Arya wasn't listening to him. She was thinking about what she had seen. "It was Bolton and Freys," she whispered. "Lenora wouldn't be safe with them. Robb was what kept Lenora safe in the North. With him gone, she's not safe."

"You're not paying attention, girl," the Hound growled.

She turned to look at him, her brows furrowed. "I can hear your voice just fine," she told him.

He sighed, "Then you're not hearing."

"First I'm not seeing, and now I'm not hearing," she muttered, mocking him. "Very well, what did I not hear?"

The Hound repeated his questions, "Do you think the Freys and Boltons would have acted on their own? Planned that massacre on their own? Without a reassurance that they would be safe? Without a reward for murdering their king."

Arya thought about his questions, "No," she finally decided, shaking her head. "Especially not the Freys. The Boltons might, the Dreadfort is far enough North and the Ironborn still have Moat Cailin. They would be safe. But the Frey's would be in danger. Even with their bridge."

"Keep going," the Hound pushed her. She sighed, he wasn't just going to give her the answer, that much was obvious. "You're close," he encouraged her.

"The only person who could guarantee that the Freys would be safe after that wedding would be -" Arya stopped speaking for a moment. What the Hound was trying to tell her had finally dawned on her.

"Say it," the Hound ordered. "Come on girl."

"The Lannisters," Arya whispered.

The Hound nodded, "The little princess will be safe from everyone but her brother. The Lannisters killed two birds with that wedding. Get rid of the Northern King and get their girl back."

Arya turned in the saddle to look at him, "Do you think that Lenora played a part in it?" she asked him. "That she planned for my brother to die?"

The Hound shook his head, "I couldn't say for sure," he told her. "I have not talked to the little princess about whether she wished to murder her husband."

"But you were in the capitol, close to the king," Arya pressed. "They must have spoken about Lenora and Robb around you."

"They said she loved him," the Hound told her.

Arya was quiet for a moment, thinking about what he had told her. She shook her head, "She didn't plan it," she murmured, more to herself than to the man behind her. "She didn't want him dead."

"That would be my guess," the Hound told her.

"And you think they're bringing her back to King's Landing?" she asked.

"What would be the point of killing her husband and his men and then leaving her in the North?" the Hound asked her. He shook his head. "I'd wager that she's already back in King's Landing now."

"In three days?" Arya asked, surprised. "They'd have to ride through the nights to do that."

"Would you murder your supposed king, his mother, his men, and kidnap his wife and then stick around to see the aftermath?" the Hound asked her, a dark chuckle rising from deep in his throat.

"No," Arya told him, shaking her head. "I would ride like hell to get as far away as possible."

She felt the Hound nod behind her. "As I said, probably in King's Landing by now"

...

On day six she asked for a horse.

She could almost hear the laughter in the Hound's voice when he asked her, "Does the little lady want a pony?"

"The little lady wants away from your stench," she growled at him.

"Horses aren't easy to come by," he told her. "And even if they were do you think that I'm going to put you on your own horse? I'd be watching the only thing of value I have in the world ride away."

"Why don't you have any money?" Arya asked him, her brow furrowed. The Hound had told her that he was going to bring her to her aunt, her mother's sister in the Eyrie. He meant to ransom her off, as he had meant to do with her brother and mother at the Twins. As the Brotherhood had meant to do before him. "Didn't you take anything from Joffrey before you left?"

"No," the Hound growled behind her.

"You're not very smart are you?" she asked him.

"I'm not a thief," he told her.

She scoffed at that, thinking about the butcher's boy. "You're fine with murdering little boys, but thieving is beneath you?" she asked him, incredulous.

The Hound was quiet for a moment, "A man's gotta have a code," he finally told her.

...

That evening they stood in the woods, hiding in the trees outside an inn, deciding whether or not they should go in. They were hungry, it had been almost four days since they had had a proper meal. Arya could not speak for the Hound, but she was starving.

The man was more cautious than she was though. She was ready to walk straight into the inn, but the Hound had his hand on her shoulder, holding her still. "Five horses," he muttered, counting the horses tied up outside the inn. "Five men. More than I feel like killing on an empty stomach."

"Who says you'll have to kill any of them?" Arya asked him.

The Hound glanced at her silently, his eyebrows raised. He thought she was an idiot. She could see that. She was about to tell him that they should go then. That it was cruel to have her stand outside the inn, so close to food and not let her have any, when two men exited the inn from one of the side doors. The second man, the taller of the two, was a complete stranger. But the first one, she recognized him.

"I know him!" she told the Hound, standing up a little straighter to get a good look at him. He was the man who had taken Needle from her. She watched the men as they pissed in the bushes. "His name is Polliver. He's the one who captured us and took us to Harrenhal. He killed Lommy."

"What the fuck's a Lommy?" the Hound asked her.

"He was my friend."

She watched him walk back into the inn and before the Hound knew what was happening she had wrenched herself from under his hand and strode off toward the door. He would have no choice but to follow her.

He was not happy about it, she could tell. He might even punish her for it later. But he followed her into the inn. He led her to a table in the back, away from the group of soldiers. Arya smiled to herself, if everything went well she would get revenge for Lommy, she would get Needle back, and she would get a real meal. All in one evening.

It was lucky that they had found this inn.

They had recognized the Hound. But not her. The man thought that the Hound was traveling with her so that he could fuck her. She was disgusted. But the Hound played it off, he was smarter than her. He told the man that she was alright. If he had been too protective of her Polliver would have been suspicious. But with one sentence from the Hound the man did not give her a second glance.

He invited the Hound to travel south with them, to King's Landing. Arya took a deep breath and glanced at the Hound with wide eyes. He had run away from Joffrey during the Battle of the Blackwater. King's Landing was no longer safe for him, but she was sure that they both knew that if he rode into King's Landing with Arya Stark in his saddle he would have been welcomed back in a heartbeat.

She was also sure that they both knew that Cersei would pay him more for Arya than her aunt ever would.

She held her breath, waiting for his answer. And sighed in relief when he told the torturer that he was not going to ever go back to King's Landing.

Arya watched, her eyes wide as the two men sized each other up. The Hound demanded a chicken, Polliver refused. The Hound demanded again, and Polliver glanced at her, proposing a trade. The Hound demanded a third time, and Polliver told him that he didn't understand the way of things.

"I understand that if anymore words come out of your cunt mouth I'm going to have to eat every chicken in this room," the Hound countered.

It was quiet and still for a long moment. And then Polliver stood up. The Hound moved faster than Arya would have imagined. Before Polliver could even reach for his sword the larger man had thrown the table at him, pinning him to the ground before he moved toward the other men, his sword drawn.

Arya had seen her brothers fight before. She had seen knights in a melee. But they were nothing like the Hound. He was fierce. He was fast. There was a certain grace about him, that she never would have imagined. He was by no means graceful, but as he fought taking down one man then the next, facing three at once, she was sure that she had never seen someone fight as easily as him.

He had killed all the men, save two. These two would be Arya's.

The first one, she bashed his face with a helm and then used his own sword to cut open his stomach.

Then she turned on Polliver. She knocked him to the ground, cutting him with his dead friend's sword. And then she took Needle from him. "Is something wrong with your leg boy?" she asked him, standing over him and repeating what Polliver had asked Lommy the day he killed him. "Am I going to have to carry you?"

"Carry me?" Polliver asked, confused. He didn't recognize her yet.

She lifted Needle in the air, watching the way the light played off the steel. "Fine little blade," she murmured. "Maybe I'll pick my teeth with it."

She saw the recognition in his eyes now.

She smiled down at him before she slid the tiny sword into his throat. She didn't turn away as she watched him choke on his own blood.

...

A little while later they rode away from the inn.

The Hound had his chicken.

And Arya had her own horse.

-.-.-.-.-

Lenora

They had ridden northeast from the Twins to the coast. They could not ride all the way north to the Dreadfort because the Ironborn still held Moat Cailin. So they rode to a small harbor town, across the Bite from White Harbor. There they boarded a boat and sailed across the harbor to White Harbor. Once there Lenora was back in the wheel house, they would now ride the rest of the way north to the Dreadfort. He still would not give her a horse. She was still left alone each day in the wheelhouse with his large, foolish wife. But every evening he would allow her to leave the wheelhouse and they would dine together.

It was on one such evening when Lenora finally started to speak to him. "I am surprised at you, Lord Bolton," she told him, taking a small bite of her mutton. He glanced up at her, just as surprised as she professed to be. She had not spoken to him since they had left the Twins. And her tone was polite and respectful.

She smiled at him, taking a sip of her wine before she spoke again. "As we left the Twins you told me that you meant for me to still be the Lady of Winterfell. And yet, you're taking me to the Dreadfort." She shook her head. "I can hardly be the Lady of Winterfell if I am held hostage at the Dreadfort."

He chuckled, low and dark. "Trust me, Princess. You will not be at the Dreadfort for long."

"Why am I going at all?" she asked him.

He almost looked disappointed in her. "The Ironborn still hold Moat Cailin," he told her. "The squids are not meant to live so far from the sea. And it's a small group. Even with the moat's defenses the Lannister army might be able to overcome the Ironborn, either by fighting skill, or by negotiation."

"You're worried that my brother's army will make it north to rescue me?" she asked him, laughing a bit to herself. Her brother would never waste his time or his soldier's lives. She was sure that even her grandfather would not be so foolish.

"It's a possibility, Princess," Bolton told her. "I was supposed to return you to King's Landing after the wedding," he told her.

"Clearly you didn't," Lenora supplied, a rueful smile twisting its way onto her lips. She was angry at her family, disgusted with them. But she would have much rathered been with them, than captured by Roose Bolton, a man who would kill his king without a single regret.

"Clearly," Bolton told her with a smirk. "But while I can trust my own people at the Dreadfort not to spread rumors about a southern princess, I cannot trust those at Winterfell. I would much prefer to have control over Moat Cailin before your mother learns your exact location."

And there it was.

Roose Bolton was an intelligent man. He knew that Joffrey would not waste the manpower to go after his sister, the one true Baratheon heir if her uncle Stannis was to be believed. He knew that Tywin would not waste the manpower when there was still a war to fight, there was still one more king in the field of battle. But he also knew that Cersei would do anything to protect her children. And that Cersei, of all the Lannisters, would send an entire army north to bring Lenora home.

She hated him, but she could admit that he was clever.

"So once you've taken Moat Cailin we will travel south from the Dreadfort and you will return me to Winterfell?" she asked him. He nodded. "And then what will you do with me?" she asked him. She was sure that she wouldn't like it, but it was better to be prepared.

Roose just smiled.

...

She dreamt of Robb that night.

It started out as a pleasant enough dream. One she welcomed as it was all she had left of Robb. They were lying in a bed together, their arms wrapped around each other. She was running her hand s through his auburn hair. His eyes were closed.

She leaned in closer to him so that she could press a kiss against his lips. She felt the corners of his lips turn up in a smile. She pulled away, she wanted to see his eyes. She needed to see his eyes. "Robb," she whispered, trying to get his attention.

He opened his eyes.

Her smile began to widen, but quickly dropped off her lips.

She wasn't looking into Robb's eyes.

They were the same shape. They were the same color. But these were not her husband's eyes. These were not the love of her life's eyes.

They were hard. They were distant. There was a coldness to them that she had never seen before.

They looked dead.

"Robb?" she whispered, her chest tight with fear. "Robb, talk to me."

He didn't speak. One of his hands lifted from her hip, it gently glided up her arm, over her shoulder to her throat. It rested there for a moment, as if taking her pulse. And then it started to tighten.

"Robb!" Lenora gasped, her hands coming up to grapple with his hand. It was hard to breathe. His grip continued to tighten. She kicked her legs, thrashing from side to side, trying to throw him off of her. But he was too strong.

He was going to kill her.

Just as she started to loose consciousness in her dream she woke up, sitting up straight in her bed, her hands at her throat, a scream echoing in the wheelhouse.

Under the scream there was another sound though, one coming from outside the wheelhouse.

The howl of a wolf.

Author's Note:

I will say this. Filler chapter or not, it feels WONDERFUL to be back. I've missed posting. And I've missed reading your reviews. And I've missed answering them! (And I hope that you guys have missed reading this story and missed hearing from me! Have you? Hmm? Have you?)
Anyway, a big thank you for stopping by and reading this chapter.
A larger thank you to those of you who have added this story to their alerts, favorites, or communities.
And the HUGEST thank you to those of you who reviewed the last chapter. There were 33 reviews on chapter fifty-five! THIRTY-THREE! That's AMAZING! Thank you. I mean it.

RHatch89: Thank you! I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well!

DJDRagon1: The first time I read your review I thought you were angry with me! But then I realized that you weren't! I'm super happy about that. I'm sorry for messing with your emotions, but I had to throw a wrench in. And I also had to separate Robb and Lenora and it isn't like they were going to allow themselves to be willingly separated. So this served that purpose. You are welcome though, I'm glad you're happy I saved Robb.

TheHuntresss: I agree. It would be terrible to insert someone else in. There's only one man for Lenora and that's Robb Stark. Don't worry, she knows that too! It's going to take a while for Robb's memories to come back completely, but ... it'll be good when they do. I promise.

ZabuzasGirl: I am on a roll! Thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter!

queen ares: I'm glad you enjoyed it! It was a bit of a risk, but I couldn't kill Robb. I love him too much.

runawaycherry93: Robb is alive! I can't believe the number of people who actually though I could kill him off. I wouldn't have been able to do that to him. Or to you guys! (Or to me!) The reunion will be good, though a bit of a long time coming. Lenora needs to find herself on her own first.

Vulcran: Yeah, the Grey Wolf is not going to be good for his enemies. And he's a little more put together than Lady Stoneheart. The Freys, Boltons, and Lannisters might need to be afraid.

Arianna Le Fay:I'm glad I shocked you guys. I seriously expected that most of you would have seen it coming. I'm super happy I was actually able to surprise you! You'll just have to wait and see what happens in the North. As for Lenora and future marriages. She knows that Robb is the only man she could love so she will not marry willingly, if she marries at all.

DannyBlack70: Yay! I thought about having him just escape. But I have plans for Lenora. She's really going to find out what she's made of and how strong she is in the second half of the story and I thought it would be harder for her to do that if she knew that Robb was out there alive somewhere. She needed to see him die, no matter how traumatic that was for her (and some readers) but I couldn't keep him dead for long. And I love Lady Stoneheart ... I love the idea of her, that is, but I wanted Robb to be the one looking for revenge.

janaoliver: Thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed the plot twist. I thought I had dropped enough hints that people knew he was going to live (apparently I hadn't) but I wanted to make sure the how of how he survived was a twist. It would definitely be one for people who only watch the show since Lady Stoneheart's not in the show. And I hoped it would be one for those who had read the book just because I had done very little with the Brotherhood except how it related to Arya. (Though ... there was a reason I had a few chapters on focusing on Arya and the Brotherhood.)

Barryium: Thank you! I hope you enjoyed the other fifty chapters as well!

EternalKnight219: You are the first person to have suspected my plan. Congratulations. You deserve a prize!

WritingNOOB: You have no idea how much I love reading your reviews! Seriously, they make my day! And I love the almost stream of consciousness going on in the first half. I'm glad that you've never seen this twist before. When I'm writing fanfiction I try not to read stories that could have similar plots so that there is no bleedover into whatever I'm writing. So I have no idea if this is a plot twist others have used before me. But judging by the responses, it isn't (at least not often) which is wonderful!
You are right. It is going to be a while before Robb and Lenora reunite. But Grey Wind will be watching her. She'll reunite with Grey Wind before she sees Robb again if I'm being honest.
Jamie's got some work to do before he can run after Lenora. But once he's comfortable with his left hand and his new sword I'd say it's safe to imagine that he'll be heading north. Along with some of my other favorites.

sltsky96: DAMN. I. DID. THAT. And damn ... I love your review! It makes me ridiculously happy. I'm so glad that you enjoyed the last chapter. And I hope that you enjoyed this chapter too. Even though it wasn't as epic as the last one. I can't follow up epic chapters with equally as epic chapters. I've got to give you guys (and the characters) a rest.
As for your hope! Of course Lenora is going to give Ramsay hell. She's not as meek and mild as Sansa. And whatever Ramsay attempts to do to Lenora, he's going to regret it. I hope you survived the busy weekend... I was one of those crazy Wonder Woman fans ... I've already seen the movie three times. (Don't tell any of my Marvel guys ... It's like I'm cheating on them!)

darkwolf76: Two reviews for two chapters! I love it! I feel your pain about Lenora. It was hard to write her at rock bottom. She had so much fight so to just have her lose it all was hard. But ... she had just seen her husband murdered in front of her, so it's expected and understandable. If you've noticed there's a bit of a trend, she came to Winterfell with fight. She lost it around the time she married Robb. He helped her find it again. She lost it when he died. This time when her fight comes back ... it's going to be hers. And no one else's.
As far as rock bottom goes ... she's got some shit to face. Some real shit. BUT she's not going to lay down and take it (hint intended) she's going to fight. With everything she's got.
Tywin is a bastard. And I love him for it. Lenora is his favorite grandchild, but even for her he's unable to look past protecting the Lannister name over protecting the Lannister people. And there's something utterly heartbreaking about that.
As for chapter fifty-five ... Jaime deserves all the hugs. I love him. I adore him. I squeal a little bit every time he is on screen. And his redemption arc is taking way too long. So yes, he is most definitely starting to see that he's fighting on the wrong side. Even more so in the next chapter. As for helping Lenora, what has he always promised her? They will never be enemies. He's not going to break that promise.
He's alive! HE'S ALIVE! I couldn't kill him. There was no way. As far as the changes ... for a while he's going to be a much darker, much angrier, much more volatile character. So it's probably a good thing that he and Lenora won't be reuniting any time soon. He's going to have a bit of a hard time getting his memories back. Physically not much is going to change. He did not get his throat "cut to the bone" like Catelyn and I hope I explained well enough that he had been living when he made it to the river, he was a new(ish) corpse when the brotherhood found him so he's not going to be all rotted and moldy.
On a scale of Lady Stoneheart to season 6 Jon he's going to be closer to Jon. Haunted, darker, but still capable of being a human.
Damn I wrote you a book ... I suppose I should go now.
I hope you enjoyed this chapter!

Guest(1): I'm so glad you didn't see that coming! That was my intention!

redhouseclan: I adore your review! Yes Robb and Jaime are back. And Lenora is determined to be a badass. Those poor Boltons.

Guest(2): Lenora is going to meet Cersei again. Though it might be a while. But when she does see Cersei again she's going to have a lot to say and I'm not sure if a slap is going to be enough for her. She might need more than that.

Kimberley: Hello new reader! Thank you! I'm so glad that not only did you find this story but you read (and loved) the whole thing so far. And thank you for saying that I'm a good writer. I'm fairly confident in my writing skills, but it's always nice to hear (or read!). I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well!

SynthesisSurge: I would say that I am sorry that I tricked you into reading a story with more points of view than you prefer, but ... I'm not. I'm so glad you're hooked. I hope that you enjoyed this chapter as well!

Guest 2.0: It's going to be a while before she makes it back to King's Landing. That's the climax of the story, so think around chapter 80(ish).

GraceConnorReese: Oh my god! There are so many of you that found this story and practically ate it up! I'm so happy you did! I'm so glad you enjoyed it enough to spend almost twelve hours reading it all the way through! You are wonderful!

LunaEvanna Longbottom: I'm glad you were surprised. Hopefully there are a few more plot twist and surprising moments coming up for you guys in the future of this story!

BrittStar1199: It's not necessarily bad that you wanted Robb to stay dead. I toyed around with it. As for Lenora's journey ... it's going to be without him for a very long time. So you'll get that wish. But I like happy endings. And Robb is the only man for Lenora, so I couldn't just throw a new love interest at her. Robb needed to be alive for my happy(ish) ending.

Guest1995: Damn. I didn't get to surprise you! But I'm glad that you're happy he's still alive! I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well!
As for the AU stories you suggested. I am still considering writing them. And if the writer's block continues I will definitely be writing some of them just to get the GoT juices flowing again.

Guest(3): It had been ages. And I'm so sorry about that. As mentioned in the note at the beginning of the chapter ... life and writer's block got in the way. But hopefully things will be flowing a bit easier now.

Saadhana: Damn! In one go! I'm so glad that you enjoyed it! You're welcome for keeping Robb alive. I couldn't kill him, but I didn't need you guys to know that! (Laughs evilly.) I hope that you enjoyed this chapter!

xxPeppermintxx109: You have no idea how happy your review made me. I really love winning people over and I'm so glad I won you over. To tell it true, the reason this story came to be is because of all the many poorly written "True Born Baratheon" stories. I was looking for one to read, and I couldn't find one that I wasn't editing or rewriting in my head. So I wrote my own. This story started because I wanted a good one. And I'm just happy you guys think it's good too.
I'm glad you love Lenora. Every fanfiction I have ever written has centered around an OC. And I'm always terrified that I'm going to fuck it up. But I love Lenora (I'm pretty sure you guys can tell that) and I'm thrilled that you guys love her too.
You're not crazy. There is a reason why Lenora and Jon spoke before Lenora spoke to Robb. They're going to be friends, good friends, but they're too much alike. The way I explained it to a friend of mine is Jon and Lenora would fit together like two people holding hands, palm to palm, fingers wrapped around the back of each other's hands. Lenora and Robb are like interlaced fingers, filling in what the other is missing. Lenora and Jon could work, but not after she had been with Robb.
I'm sorry I made you cry when Robb died! If it makes you feel any better I was crying when I wrote it. Crying and grinning because I knew what was coming.
Thank you so much for your review! I hope that you enjoyed this chapter as well.

darkhairedgirl21: I'm so glad that you're enjoying this story! And I'm so glad that you like Lenora! And I think you are one of the few people who are willing to admit that they're happy I kept the Red Wedding. Most people were very angry at me. I'm so glad you like the other points of view too. I could've written this as straight Lenora (and maybe Robb) POV, but the GoT world is so intense and so intertwined, a seemingly unimportant conversation between two characters can become VERY important weeks later. So I couldn't do it justice without weaving it all together.

Kathiena: I'm glad you love the story! I hope you're still around to read this chapter as well!

LokiLova: I don't know how you did it either! You binge readers amaze me! I'm so glad you're enjoying the chapter so far!

Vgc: Thank you so much for your review! Here's your update, dear!

TheDragonSinger: Fuck yes, Robb Stark!

That's all I've got friends! Thank you so much for all your review love and support. You are amazing. And I adore each and every one of you!
I'll be back some time soon (this week, I promise!)
Until next time,
Chloe Jane.