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Chapter Sixty-Nine: To Be a Stark
Lenora
Miranda, the kennelmaster's daughter turned handmaiden, walked into Lenora's chambers unannounced in the middle of the afternoon. It surprised Lenora a bit, while she was used to Miranda coming into her room unannounced with food to break her fast and supper, this was an odd time for the girl to arrive. It was even stranger to see that she had a gown of black and gold in her hands and that she came followed by several servants, each carrying a pitcher of warm water to fill the bathtub with.
"I don't remember asking you to draw a bath," Lenora said as she closed the book she had been reading, she turned to watch as the women began pouring the water in the tub that stood in the corner of the chamber. "What is all this for?"
"You didn't ask me to draw a bath, my lady," Miranda told her as she placed the dress on the bed and gestured toward the tub. "Lord Bolton did."
Lenora arched a brow, wondering why Roose Bolton would have any interest in her bathing habits, but then her gaze fell on the new gown on her bed. It was beautiful, warm black velvet with gold trim and detailing, it was almost too ornate for the south, and most definitely too much for the North. It reminded her of the dresses she had brought with her when she moved to Winterfell, the ones her mother had always loved her in. The ones she had given up when she married Robb. Married. Her gaze fell back to the dress and she shook her head, it was too fancy for day to day life, but it would be perfect for a wedding. "No," she whispered, shaking her head again. "No."
Miranda smiled at her, her thin lips making her tight smile look almost like a snarl. "The Lord of Winterfell cannot have his son and heir marrying a woman who has not bathed," she told her as she moved toward Lenora's seat by the window. She was surprisingly strong for her small stature, she grabbed Lenora's wrists and pulled her from her seat, dragging her across the room toward the tub. Once there she made quick work of untying Lenora's laces and stripping off her gown and shift. "You'll want to be careful of your chains when you climb in, my lady," she told her, smiling sweetly when she nodded toward the manacles that were still around her ankles.
Lenora tried not to be embarrassed by her state of undress when she turned to glare at the girl. "And if I don't get into the tub?" she asked, sounding braver than she felt.
Miranda's smile widened, not only had she expected Lenora's question, but she was looking forward to it. "Then I will push you in," she told her.
Lenora's eyes narrowed into a glare for a moment before she carefully sat down on the edge of the tub and pivoted until both her legs were in the scalding water. She hissed in pain, it was too hot. But there was no way to cool it down now, and she had a feeling that even if there were Miranda would not be willing to do it. And so, with gritted teeth Lenora lowered herself all the way into the water. She took a deep breath, the water would cool down at some point, or it would burn her so badly that she no longer felt the pain of it. Either way, she would be able to manage it.
Miranda was not gentle as she scrubbed the nonexistent dirt from her skin. Instead of rubbing the bathing oils onto Lenora's arms and legs she slapped it on. She pulled and yanked on Lenora's hair as she washed it and brushed it. More than once Lenora had offered to bathe herself, but each time Miranda had smiled at her and insisted that Ramsay had asked her to ensure that his bride got everything she deserved before their wedding.
Before the water had even begun to cool she had pulled Lenora out of the tub and sat her in front of the fire, wrapped in furs to dry off as the girl brushed her dark hair until it dried and shone. Then she pushed her forward toward the bed so that she could dress her. It was as she was tying the laces on the back of Lenora's dress that Lenora finally gave voice to the thought that she had held since the moment she realized what the dress was for. "This won't work," she whispered quietly, shaking her head. "A forced vow is a false vow in the eyes of the Gods. And none of the Northmen will believe that I willingly married the son of the man that murdered my husband."
She couldn't see Miranda's face, but she imagined the smirk that no doubt rested on her lips as the girl pulled the laces of her dress just too tight, only letting off when she heard Lenora gasp. "It will work," the girl insisted as she tightened the laces again, tying them this time. She moved around to stand in front of Lenora, adjusting the collar of the dress, arranging her hair, smoothing the wrinkles in the skirt. "Because it won't be a forced vow, you will make that choice willingly. And they will believe it, because they will see it as your attempt to bring peace back to the North. They might even thank you for it."
Lenora's eyebrows had raised at you will make that choice willingly. "And if I don't?" she asked, glancing at Miranda. "If I get to the God's Wood or the Sept or wherever Lord Bolton has decided to put on this sham and I say no, what will happen to me?"
"Nothing to you," Miranda told her, smiling sweetly. "But Lord Ramsay asked me to tell you something before you tell him no." Lenora sighed, there was nothing Ramsay could say that would make her agree to marrying him. She was certain of it. "He told me to tell you to look to your right while you're walking down the aisle," Miranda told her. "There will be a group of children, ones that grew up here at Winterfell, ones that knew the keep when the Starks still lived here, some of them even knew your husband. If you behave and play your part, they will live to see tomorrow. If you cause a scene or try to say no then he will throw them off the walls into the woods for that direwolf you're so certain of to find."
Lenora's mouth dropped open. She knew that Ramsay would be cruel enough to follow through on his threat, and she had always known that there was something wicked about Miranda, but she hadn't realized just how cruel the girl could be until now. She seemed to enjoy the thought of throwing helpless children off of a wall to be eaten by a direwolf. She shook her head, giving her that choice, putting that on her conscience was no choice at all. Miranda smiled as she stepped away from Lenora, to get a better look at her handiwork, "And so you see, Princess," she said, her voice as calm and sweet as if she were discussing the weather. "You will behave. And you will say your vows. And you will marry Ramsay, if only to keep the children safe."
There was a knock on the door and Miranda called out for whoever was on the other side to enter. Theon opened the door and stood respectfully out in the hallway. He was quiet and meek like Reek; but he had bathed, his hair was brushed, and he was dressed like Theon. Miranda smiled at him, "Right on time, Reek," she praised him as she bent down and pulled something out of her dress, the key to Lenora's manacles. She reached under Lenora's skirts, her fingernails scratching at the skin on Lenora's ankles as she tried to unlock her chains. It took her a minute, but soon she had lifted the chains off Lenora's ankles. It felt strange, to suddenly have the weight lifted. "Remember," Miranda told her in a sing song voice as she stood. "Think of the children."
A veiled threat, a reminder not to run away.
Lenora glanced past Miranda to Theon. "And what are you doing here?" she asked him. "Have you come to witness my downfall too?"
Theon looked down at his feet, "Lord Ramsay asked me to give you away," he told his left boot. "Theon is the closest thing you have to family here," Miranda cut in before Lenora could say anything. "He was practically a brother to your late husband."
Lenora's jaw tightened and she felt tears spring to her eyes. She had not needed the reminder that Theon had once been close and loyal to Robb. He seemed to understand her pain, his gaze seemed softened, even though he did not look at her as he walked further into her chamber, his arm held out to her. For a moment Lenora hesitated, but then she remembered Miranda's words think of the children. She did not know which children Ramsay had threatened, but she did not doubt that he would follow through, and she did not want their deaths on her hands. This would not be the time to escape. She took a deep, shuddering breath and dropped her hand onto Theon's arm.
This was not the first time he had walked her down an aisle. She hoped to the seven that it would be the last.
The Godswood was beautiful. It was snowing lightly, and lit by candles and lanterns. There were lords and ladies from several lesser northern Houses in attendance, but most of the Great Houses seemed to be staying away. Still Lenora recognized some of the faces in the small crowd. She did not give Ramsay the satisfaction of watching her look at the children who's lives were in her hands, she kept her gaze straight ahead, glaring at him despite the tears that threatened to fill her eyes.
At one point as they walked down the aisle that seemed impossibly long and impossibly short at the same time, she stumbled. Her feet unused to walking without the manacles now. Theon's right hand flew to her arm, helping her steady herself. "Just a bit further, my lady," he whispered to her, his lips barely moving. "It will all be over soon."
But that was a lie. She did not know much about what her life as Ramsay's bride would entail, but she knew one thing for certain. It would not be over soon.
Soon they reached the end of the aisle where Ramsay and Roose stood waiting for them. Ramsay's eyes were large and almost earnest looking. For the onlookers many would believe that he was thrilled to be marrying her. Roose watched her, his eyes narrowed as if he did not trust her to behave. "Who comes before the Old Gods this night?" Roose asked, stepping forward, his pale eyes never leaving Lenora's face.
"Lenora," Theon answered, "of House Baratheon comes here to be wed." Lenora's jaw clenched, Stark, she screamed in her head while her heart beat rapidly against her chest. Lenora of House Stark. Theon paused for a moment, swallowing around a lump in his throat. Lenora turned to look at him, wondering what had given him pause. "Who comes to claim her?" he bit out, glaring at his shoe.
Ramsay stepped forward. "Ramsay of House Bolton, heir to the Dreadfort and Winterfell," he answered, smirking at Lenora. He paused for a moment too before he turned his smirk on Theon, enjoying the scene playing out before him. "Who gives her?" he asked.
Lenora turned, hoping to see any sign in Theon that he remembered who he was. But his eyes were dead as he answered, still refusing to lift his gaze off of his foot. "Theon of House Greyjoy. Who was her late husband's brother."
"Lady Lenora," Roose cut in, he clearly believed that the ceremony was taking too long. Lenora wondered if he thought the long it took the less she would be likely to behave. Did he not know about Ramsay's threat? "Do you take this man?" he asked her.
The wood was so silent that she swore that everyone there could her heart beating. It felt as if it were throwing itself at her ribs, begging her to say no, to run away, to forget the children and anyone else that Ramsay might harm in his anger and run from him. She watched, as Roose's jaw twitched, a silent warning that she was taking too long. But Ramsay seemed unconcerned, he already knew what her answer would be. She took a deep breath, "I take this man," she whispered. In the wolf's wood, beyond the walls, the direwolf howled. Long and low, echoing the pain that Lenora felt and drowning out her whispered vow.
...
Because she had already been a married woman Roose announced that they would skip the bedding ceremony. Lenora was not fool enough to believe that skipping the bedding ceremony in any way saved her from Ramsay trying to bed her. They would want to legitimize the marriage as quickly as possible. But at least she would be saved the humiliation of being stripped down in the hall and carried to the bedchamber.
After a meager feast that Lenora was hardly able to keep down Ramsay stood from his seat at the high table and grabbed her wrist, pulling her quickly out of the hall and to her chambers. Her throat tightened when he threw open the door and she realized that he meant to force himself on her in Robb's bed.
He let go of her wrist once they were standing in the middle of the chamber, he grinned at her, his thin lips twisting into a wicked smirk, "You've been very well behaved, wife," he told her, seeming to enjoy her discomfort at the word. "Better than I could have imagined. My father thanks you for that."
Lenora stared at him, careful to keep her gaze on his face so that he wouldn't think she was afraid of him. "The children are safe?" she asked him.
His lips twitched, "For now," he assured her.
Lenora was not stupid, she understood the veiled threat. The children were safe as long as she did exactly what Ramsay wished of her. They no longer had an audience, but she was still expected to behave. "I'll do whatever you want," she assured him, her brows furrowing as he dropped to his knees, his hands reaching below her skirts. She felt his hand close around one of her ankles, and then the cool metal of her manacles, he was chaining her back up. Her throat tightened again and she looked away from him, over his shoulder so that she did not have to watch him embarrass her further by chaining her up like a criminal.
It was then that she realized that the chamber door was still open. And furthermore, Theon was standing in the doorway, silent as if he was Ramsay's own shadow.
"I have no doubt of that, my lady," Ramsay told her, still smirking as he rose to stand. He was still dressed in his wedding finery, a dark velvet doublet, a fur cloak around his shoulders, a dagger in a belt around his waist. Lenora quickly lifted her gaze back to his face. His pale blue eyes swept over her, his smirk widening. "Take off your dress," he ordered.
Lenora did not move. The only part of her that moved was her gaze as it drifted back over Ramsay's shoulder toward the chamber door. She could still see Theon in the shadows. He could still see her. She heard him shift, turning to leave when Ramsay's voice cut through the silent room like a whip. "Where are you going, Reek?" he asked, never turning his gaze from Lenora's face. "You're going to stand there, just as I ordered. You're going to stand there and watch as I rape my wife."
Lenora shook her head, she could force herself to marry Ramsay, but she could not force herself to let him bed her while Theon watched. It was too wretched. "Please," she asked, allowing her voice to tremble a bit. Ramsay loved when she begged. "I won't fight you," she assured him. "If he leaves I will let you do whatever you want. I won't fight it."
Ramsay smirked, his hands landing on her shoulders as he turned her, almost gently to face the bed. "You don't understand, Lenora," he told her, his hands coming to her laces. He was not gentle now, he did not untie the laces, but rather he tore them open, allowing the cold chamber air to hit her bare back as the sleeves began to fall off her shoulders. He leaned closer to her, his chin resting on her shoulder while his hand, cold as ice, ran up and down her bare spine, sending goosebumps spreading across her skin. "I want you to fight me," he whispered, his tongue darting out to lick around the shell of her ear. Lenora flinched away from him. He chuckled, "It makes it so much more exciting."
He grabbed her shoulder and forcefully spun her around to face him again, pushing her back toward the bed as his hands came up toward the collar of her dress. He shoved her, throwing her onto the bed before he crawled after her, one knee planted on the mattress between her legs, the other on the outside of her right thigh. His gaze never left her face, he was so intent on her humiliation that as he reached for the collar of her dress, ripping it off her and baring her to her waist for Theon to see he did not notice as Lenora's right hand reached for the dagger at his waist.
For one brief moment he grinned down at her, pleased that he was so easily able to humiliate and torture her. And then his pale blue eyes widened in surprise and she imagined fear as her right hand lashed out at him, his dagger gripped tightly in her fist. She had been aiming at his chest, but he moved before she could. Instead she slashed at his face, opening up a cut that ran from his left eye to his right cheek.
Blood, warm and wet, spilled down on her chest from above. And she smiled as she heard Ramsay howl in a mix of surprise and pain. He lunged forward, more blood dripping down on her as both of his hands closed around her wrist, wrestling the dagger out of her hand. Lenora screamed, fighting him, but he was bigger than her and he already had her pinned to the mattress.
He glared down at her and for a moment she thought that he would rape her anyway, with his blood dripping down on her the entire time. But she had cut him too deeply, even in his rage he must have known that. "You'll pay for this," he growled at her before he jumped off the bed and rushed toward the chamber door, slamming it shut behind him.
Lenora stayed where she was, her chest rising and falling unevenly with the effort to breathe. She only relaxed when she heard Theon lock the chamber door from the outside.
It was then that she dropped her head down on the pillows and laughed.
For now, she was safe.
...
The next morning the sound of children screaming drew her to her window. From there she watched, wide eyed and disbelieving, as Ramsay dropped seven children from the keep's walls.
He thought that he was punishing her, but he had made a mistake.
He had nothing to hold over her now. Nothing to threaten her with.
Lenora turned away from the window. Soon, she would figure out how to escape.
-.-.-.-.-
Sansa
She had been traveling with Brienne and Podrick for almost a fortnight now. Each day she grew more grateful that she had trusted them, that she had left Petyr and the Eyrie to join Brienne. The woman knight had done nothing to earn Sansa's distrust. She seemed earnest in her desire to protect Sansa and to see her safely to Castle Black and Jon. Whatever had happened between Jaime Lannister, Brienne, and her mother, Sansa knew that Brienne had meant it when she had given Catelyn her word that she would protect her children.
It was a shame that Arya was lost to them. She knew that it haunted Brienne, her ability to fulfill only half of her vow.
"And you're certain that Arya isn't alive?" Sansa asked one morning as they broke their fast after Brienne and Podrick had finished their sword practice. She was sitting between the boy and the knight, glancing back and forth. She did not much care which one gave her an answer. She had asked this question several times already, always displeased with the answer. They were both so certain that Arya was dead. But Sansa thought, they had once been close, she thought that perhaps she would have felt it if Arya had died, she would have felt the difference.
Though, she had not felt it when her mother died, or Robb, or the boys. Perhaps her intuition wasn't as good as she wanted to think.
Brienne nodded as she took a bite of food, a coarse meal that Sansa had to choke down but that the knight seemed to honestly enjoy. "No one has heard from her or seen her since your father's execution," she told Sansa. "If she were alive, surely there would be rumors."
"And where are you getting your information?" Sansa asked, her voice hard with distrust. She trusted Brienne, but she could not understand how the woman could place so much trust in Jaime Lannister. "From the Kingslayer."
"Ser Jaime," Brienne corrected, barely looking up from her meal. It was as if it were some bone deep instinct for the woman to defend the Lannister.
Sansa raised an eyebrow, "What happened between the two of you?" she asked. "What did he do to earn your trust?"
This had Brienne looking up from her food. For a moment her blue eyed gaze landed on Sansa and then drifted away, off into the distance. Sansa had the feeling that Brienne was in a totally different kingdom, a different time, with a different companion. "He could have killed me," the blonde woman told her, her voice quiet and soft. "There were many times he could have killed me, or stood by when someone did the dirty work for him. But each and every time I thought the worst of him he proved me wrong. He saved me. Time and time again. And when we reached King's Landing he tried to keep his word to your mother. He had no idea how to find you, but he sent me after you anyway. It was a risk, one that could have angered his sister. But he took it anyway."
Sansa stared at her for a moment, and then she lifted her spoon to her lips and forced down another swallow of meal. "And because he saved you, you're convinced the Seven Kingdoms are wrong about him? That he is not the King slaying monster I've been told about since I was a young girl?"
Brienne shook her head. "I know that he's not," she assured Sansa. "And if you heard the true tale you would know it too."
Sansa arched a brow at that. She leaned back on the log she was sitting on, an attempt to make herself comfortable before she gestured at Brienne. "Then by all means, tell me the tale," she commanded. Brienne's unfaltering belief in Jaime Lannister made her wonder if perhaps her father had been too harsh with the knight. She thought back to the first time she had met Lenora, the princess had been so kind, so nice. She had wondered how the older girl was able to overlook her uncle's broken vows to love him and trust him. She had concluded that Lenora was simply blinded by the love she had for the man who had raised her. But now as she sat with Brienne while the woman tried to explain to her why she trusted Jaime, Sansa thought that perhaps it was she that had been blinded.
Brienne shook her head. "It is not my tale to share, my lady," she told her. "But rest assured, if Jaime Lannister says that Arya could not be alive, then she is not alive."
Sansa turned toward Pod, forcing down another spoonful of meal. "And you believe it too?" she asked him.
Podrick nodded, waiting until he had swallowed his own mouthful of food before he answered. "Yes, my lady," he told her. "Lord Tyrion looked for her when he returned to King's Landing, before you were married. He had told your mother that he would try to send her daughters back to her. He could not find her. And if Lord Tyrion could not find her, then she could not have been in King's Landing."
"But perhaps she made it out of King's Landing," Sansa argued, still unsure. Something, deep inside of her, her heart or her bones perhaps, told her that Arya was still alive. She wanted to believe it, she had to. "The day our father died, perhaps?"
"The queen had all the Red Guard looking for her, my lady," Podrick told her, his voice soft though he was arguing with her. "Do you think she could have left the city without anyone noticing?"
"I did," Sansa told him with a shrug.
Brienne laughed at that, short and humorless, "Trust me, my lady," she interjected. "People noticed that you escaped."
"But no one caught me," Sansa argued, shaking her head.
"You had help," Brienne explained to her. "I don't believe that Lord Baelish assisted Arya in her escape."
"No," Sansa agreed, "but someone could have."
"Then where is she?" Brienne asked. She leaned forward, "Trust me, my lady, if I had any lead on where your sister could be, if she were alive, I would follow it. I don't." She shook her head, "I promised your mother I would return you to her. I can't do that, but once I have seen you safely to your brother at the Wall, with your leave I will search the entire Seven Kingdoms for your sister if you wish it. But for now I mean to see you north."
Sansa nodded, touched by the woman's words in spite of herself. "You truly mean it?" she asked. "You won't stop until you learn what happened to her?"
"I swear it," Brienne promised her.
And that was all Sansa needed to hear. If there was one thing she knew about Brienne of Tarth it was that she took her vows very seriously. No matter what had happened to Arya, Brienne would find out.
She swallowed down her last bite of the meal. "When will we set out this morning?" she asked, glancing between Brienne and Podrick, a quiet sign that they would get no further argument from her.
...
The ground was uncomfortable. When they had first started their journey from the Eyrie she had thought that the beds in the inns were uncomfortable. She had complained about them. Brienne and Podrick had let her complain, it seemed as though they believed that she deserved the right to complain after everything the Lannisters had put her through. But now, as they were walking through the wilderness, far from any main roads or inns they slept on the ground every night and even though Brienne made sure that Sansa got the best blankets to cover up with and lay down on it was still terribly uncomfortable.
But she was too tired to complain. Even when she woke up bruised from sleeping on top of a tree root.
Her protectors were kind to her. They always woke up before her. And by the time they woke her they would have packed up most of their camp and the made the food to break their fast. She got more sleep than they did. She did less work than they did. And yet she was always tired, always sore. She couldn't begin to understand how they continued to do it day in and day out.
But one morning was different. She woke up, not to the sounds of movement and the smells of breakfast, but to a silence she was not used to. It was too quiet. Even in the middle of the night when she couldn't sleep and the world was almost silent she would be able to hear the horses, snoring, moving, breathing. She couldn't hear that now.
She sat upright, looking around. For one brief, terrifying moment she thought that maybe Brienne and Podrick had changed their minds about her. Perhaps she had been too much trouble and they had left her out here to fend for herself.
But there they were, sleeping on either side of her, just as they did every night. She breathed a sigh of relief and was about to lay down again when she remembered the silence. She looked around, wondering why it had woken her up. The horses were gone.
She leaned over, her hand on Brienne's shoulder as she shook the female knight. "Brienne!" she whispered, shaking her a bit harder. "Brienne!"
"Podrick!" Brienne yelled out as she started to wake, "protect Lady Sansa!" Her hand was reaching for the pommel of her sword. She was caught in between sleep and awake, she did not know what was going on. With a gasp Sansa jumped away from her, getting out of the way lest the knight decide to attack her.
Brienne's blue eyes found her quickly. She was breathing heavily, but as soon as she saw Sansa her hand dropped from her sword. "Lady Sansa," she greeted, nodding deeply to express her apology. "I apologize if I startled you."
Sansa shook her head, "It was I who startled you, Brienne."
Brienne smiled at her and nodded before she glanced around. "Is there something that you need, my lady?" she asked, no doubt wondering why Sansa had woken her before dawn.
Sansa nodded, "I woke because it seemed too quiet," she told the knight. "The horses are gone."
Brienne looked around, as if to confirm that they were in fact missing. And then she stood, moving faster than Sansa thought she had any right too in all of her leather. "Podrick!" the knight hissed, moving toward the squire. "Pod! Wake up!" The boy woke up, squinting a bit in the darkness and looking so confused that Sansa felt sorry for him. "Where are the horses?" Brienne barked at him as soon as she saw that he was awake.
"I hobbled them last night," Podrick answered her, standing up as well so that he could look for the horses. They were nowhere to be seen.
"What sort of hobble?" Brienne asked.
"Figure eight," Podrick answered. "Like you taught me."
Sansa smiled to herself when Brienne turned to Podrick and shook her head, "If you did it like I taught you then the horses would be here."
"Thieves, maybe?" Podrick suggested.
For a moment Sansa's heart raced at the thought of thieves. But then she realized that no thief, even the stupidest one, would take their horses, but leave all their belongings and leave them alive. Wherever the horses had gone, they had gone on their own.
Brienne shook her head as she bent to pick up one of the saddlebags, "You're carrying the saddlebags," she told Podrick as she threw it at him.
...
Brienne heard them long before she did. Sansa did not realize it until after she had heard the clashing swords as well. But when she thought back on it she realized that she had noticed the way Brienne's shoulders and jaw tensed a good few minutes before she knew why. It bothered her, that after everything she had gone through in King's Landing - after Joffrey, and Cersei, and Littlefinger, that she was still so unaware of her surroundings.
That was why her mother had sent Brienne after her. Because Sansa was so incapable of taking care of herself. There was a small part of her that still held out hope that Arya was alive. But if their roles had been reverse, if Arya had stayed in King's Landing and Sansa had been the one to disappear then there wouldn't have been any hope. Everyone would have known that Sansa was dead.
Though, she supposed, trying to make herself feel better. There was no way that Arya would have been able to survive in the capitol. She had never known when to keep her mouth shut. She had been impulsive, stubborn, stupid when it came to the games that people played. Sansa had been blind to the games in King's Landing when she had first arrived. But Cersei had opened her eyes quickly and it hadn't been long before Sansa had learned them too. Their septa had always told her that she was a quick study.
She only wished that she had been quicker. Quick enough to realize what they were going to do to her father and gotten them all away. She was embarrassed now when she thought of the fit she had thrown when her father had tried to send them away. He had not been stupid, he had not been blind. He had seen what Cersei and Joffrey meant to do to his family and he had meant to save her. And she had yelled, screamed, and cried.
She had run to Cersei and told her, thinking that the queen would be able to help her stay.
It was for that reason, that stupidity that Sansa did not put up a fight when Brienne ordered her to stay with Podrick while she went ahead to investigate the noise in the woods. As curious as she was, as desperately as she wanted to prove that she wasn't the same stupid little girl; she was smart enough to know that she would be no help to Brienne here in the wilderness. If whoever was fighting was no friend of theirs then Brienne would not need the added worry of defending Sansa while trying to escape.
She wanted to think that her willingness to wait without a fuss was its own sign that she had grown up in her time in King's Landing. She liked to think it was what her mother would have done.
She waited quietly with Podrick until she could not hear Brienne moving through the trees anymore before she turned to the squire. "How is he?" she asked him, her voice a soft whisper. Podrick turned to her, his brows furrowed in confusion, he did not know who she meant. "Tyrion," she clarified, tripping over the man's name. "How was he when you left?"
Podrick bit his bottom lip, thinking about how Tyrion had been the last time he had seen the lord. It was that hesitation that told Sansa he was lying when he answered her question. "He was quite well, my lady."
She shook her head, "I don't believe Lord Tyrion was ever quite well in the capitol, Pod," she told the younger man. "No matter what he thought. Cersei was not going to forget about him for long. She loved him about as well as she loved me." Pod's dark-eyed gaze dropped when he realized that he had been caught in a lie. Sansa smiled at him, soft and bittersweet, so that he would know that she was not angry at him. "Tell me the truth, Pod," she ordered him. "How was he the last time you were with him?"
The squire's gaze lifted to her face again and he shook his head, "He was not in good shape, my lady," he told her honestly. "After the king died and you disappeared, the queen," he paused, looking for the words, "she needed someone to blame, you see. And -"
"And it looked suspicious that I had disappeared during his death and that he had died after humiliating Tyrion," Sansa supplied for him.
Podrick nodded, "It wasn't difficult for the queen to persuade the court to believe that Lord Tyrion had poisoned the king. It was no secret that he did not love the king."
"But I was the one that disappeared," Sansa argued with him. "She could have simply blamed me and been done with it. It wouldn't have been much harder to believe than Tyrion. I pretended I still loved him, but the entire court had seen how he treated me when we were betrothed. It would have been easy to believe."
"But you weren't there," Podrick countered. "The queen did not only want someone to blame for the king's death. She wanted someone to punish. She could not punish you because she could not find you."
"But she had Tyrion and she had always hated him," Sansa finished. She shook her head, not for the first time she felt guilty for leaving him. He had always been so kind to her, so gentle. And she had repaid his kindness by running away after Joffrey's death, even though a part of her had always known that Cersei would try to blame Tyrion for the loss of her son. She sighed, "I should never have left without him," she whispered.
Podrick shook his head, "He wouldn't have wanted you to stay, my lady," he assured her. "He would have had to worry about you if you were still in King's Landing. And he had enough to worry about without all that."
"Did he -" Sansa started, pausing for a moment when she noticed the way her voice trembled. "Did he think that I had - that it was me?"
Podrick shook his head, "No, my lady," he assured her. "He knew that you did not kill the king. He defended you."
He meant to make her feel better, she knew that. But he made her feel worse.
"My lady!" she heard Brienne yelling through the trees. Her voice was loud, high pitched, excited. "Podrick! Bring the lady to me! I have found her sister!"
Sansa turned, her hair whipping around her face as she faced the direction Brienne had walked in. When she was talking to Pod she had not realized that the sound of clashing steel had stopped. It was quiet now, save for the sound of her heart pounding in her chest. She could not believe what she was hearing, but at the same time she so desperately wanted to.
She started running, she would not wait for Pod. "Arya?" she screamed, her voice cracking. "Arya!"
-.-.-.-.-
Jon
When he had first thought about joining the Night's Watch he had liked the idea, in part, because at the Wall it would not matter that he was a bastard. The Night's Watch was one of the few places in the Seven Kingdoms where a bastard could rise just as high as a highborn son. It was the only place in the Seven Kingdoms where he would not have to constantly remind himself that he was somehow less than everyone around him because of the circumstances of his birth.
He would always be a bastard, but at the Wall, that would not matter nearly as much.
And yet, never in his wildest dreams had he ever imagined that he would rise from bastard to steward and from steward to Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. He hadn't expected it. He hadn't wanted it. But it had been given to him and it was now his duty to do right by these men.
When he was a young boy he had asked his father to tell him how it had felt to learn that he would be Lord of Winterfell after the death of Rickard and Brandon Stark. Even now, a grown man, he could still remember how Ned's shoulders had sunk, the heaviness that quickly settled in the older man's eyes, the quiet monotonous tone of his voice when he told Jon that he had hated it. Back then he had not understood. Even when he was nearly a man grown, still at Winterfell, he had not understood.
But now, now he could see it. His father had not been raised to be Lord of Winterfell. He had not been trained, he had not spent his entire life with the understanding that Winterfell would one day be his. It was thrust on him after the most unlikely of circumstances. After the most unimaginable tragedy. After the death of his father and eldest brother. One day he was the middle son of Lord Rickard Stark, the next he was the Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North, and tasked with the safety and well being of every man, woman, and child in the North. With the war going on he hadn't even been able to get his footing, to grieve, to become accustomed to the idea of it all. He had to fight to protect the North and he had to shoulder all his emotions about the deaths in his family on his own with no help from anyone around him.
It was no doubt very similar to what Bran had felt after Robb died. No, that wasn't right. Bran had died before Robb. Him and Rickon both. Jon shook his head. There had been so many deaths since he had left Winterfell. It was hard to keep them straight - the order, who he had grieved for and who he hadn't had time for, who was proven dead and who was only suspected. His father had been the first. They said Arya was dead, but no one had seen her or her body in at least a year. Then came the boys, Bran and Rickon, burned beyond recognition. Robb and Catelyn had died together at the Twins. Lenora had been saved from that fate, but had disappeared for almost a moon's turn, only to resurface as prisoner of the Boltons. Sansa alone of his Stark siblings was safe, though in King's Landing with the Lannister Queen he wasn't sure how safe she truly was.
He remembered once, when they were younger, Maester Luwin was teaching the Stark children about the history of House Stark. They were learning about a long winter many generations ago, where the Stark of Winterfell had forgotten his own House words and misjudged how long a winter would last. They did not have enough grain stored up to last the long winter and many had starved. Robb had criticized the old Stark and Ned had heard him. He sat the children down and told them that it was easy, to look back on decisions and question them, judge them. But that it was unfair to do so when they had knowledge that the past did not. The afternoon knows what the morning never suspected, Ned had told them.
As he sat in Castle Black, thinking about all the losses his House had suffered since he left Jon couldn't help but judge himself for leaving. Without Ned at Winterfell, Lady Catelyn surely would have made Jon suffer, but he had suffered at Castle Black as well, and perhaps if he had stayed he would have been able to save someone. Perhaps he would have stayed at Winterfell when Robb and Catelyn marched south, perhaps he would have been able to save Bran and Rickon when the Ironborn came for Winterfell. Or perhaps he would have marched with Robb, fought alongside him. Perhaps he would have been there to protect his brother when Lord Walder Frey showed his true colors.
Perhaps he would have made a difference.
Or perhaps, all the death would have happened just the same, the only difference being that Jon would have had a more up close view of it.
His fist clenched, he wanted to punch something. He should not have left for the Wall. He should not have joined the Night's Watch. He should have stayed with his family. Ned had often told the children (mostly Sansa and Arya when they fought) that when the cold winds blow the lone wolf dies and the pack survives. How had they forgotten that when they all scattered from Winterfell? Ned and the girls to the South, Jon to the Wall, eventually Robb and Catelyn following Ned south. How could they be a pack when they were separated by so many leagues? How could anyone be surprised that there were hardly any Starks left. They were all lone wolves now.
The afternoon knows what the morning never suspected, Ned's voice spoke to him from beyond the crypt. Jon could not be angry, he could not judge. When he had left Winterfell he had no reason to suspect what would become of his family. None of them did. He could not rage against himself for making a decision that at the time had made sense.
Especially now when he had the lives of the Night's Watch on his shoulders. Especially now when he had the safety of the entire Seven Kingdoms to defend.
...
He could not stop the exasperated sigh that escaped his lips when after a long afternoon of training Olly and some of the new recruits down in the yard he walked into the Lord Commander's quarters to find Stannis Baratheon sitting in his chair. Perhaps, he thought that as king of the Seven Kingdoms he had a right to the chair, but the Night's Watch was not there to honor the king and the would-be Baratheon King had long overstayed his welcome as far as Jon was concerned.
He knew better though, than to speak out against the king, he knew better than to demand his chair. Instead he inclined his head, "You Grace," he greeted Stannis, though his misliked the feel of the words on his lips.
Stannis Baratheon was not one for pleasantries. He nodded his head, "Lord Commander," he greeted though he remained in Jon's seat behind the Lord Commander's desk. He did not pause before he told Jon why he was there. "I ordered Mance Rayder burnt at the stake. You prevented that order from being carried out. You showed mercy. A king's word is law." He glanced to the right of the desk where his Hand stood, "Perhaps you should ask Lord Davos how much mercy I show to law breakers."
Jon bit his tongue to keep from pointing out that at the Wall it was now his word that was law, not the king's - especially when there were two kings of Westeros. One freezing in the North and one sitting on the throne in the South. He did not say these words, but Stannis must have read them in his eyes. Because he sighed, his tone when he spoke again as softer, as if he were attempting to impart some advice on Jon rather than scold him. "If you show too much kindness, people will not fear you. If they don't fear you, they won't follow you."
Jon thought of his father, of Robb, people had followed them, not out of fear but out of love. Stannis had it wrong. Kindness was the key. People would fear Stannis for a time, but eventually someone or something new would come along, something more frightening. The fear would disappear. But love never did. If Stannis had the people's love, he would have it forever.
"With all due respect, your Grace, the Free Folk will never follow you," Jon told him, alluding to the conversation they had had before he had been named Lord Commander, when Stannis had asked him for help in persuading Mance and the Wildlings to fight the Boltons. "No matter what you do. You are the man who burned their King alive."
Stannis gave him a pointed look, "You," he said. "They would follow you."
Jon shook his head, "No," he assured Stannis. "Only one of their own."
Stannis looked unconvinced. He turned to Davos and gestured. The smuggler turned knight, turned Hand of the King, moved closer to the desk and handed Stannis a piece of parchment. "Do you know this girl?" Stannis asked, his intense gaze sweeping over the letter in his hand. "Lyanna Mormont?"
"The Lord Commander's," Jon started before he paused. He was now the Lord Commander. "Lord Commander Mormont's niece?" he asked.
Stannis nodded, "And the newest Lady of Bear Island," he told her. "A child of ten," he added as he handed Jon the letter. "I asked her to commit her House to my cause," he nodded toward the parchment. "That was her response."
Jon looked down, the new Lady of Bear Island had taken it upon herself to write back to Stannis. Her response came not in the practiced script of a maester, but in a child's uneven, somewhat shaky hand. He smiled as he read her response out loud, "Bear Island knows no king but the King in the North, whose name is Stark."
"That amuses you?" Stannis asked him, his voice sharp and hard.
Jon sighed, he needed to tread carefully with him. "My apologies, your Grace, the Northerners can be a bit like the Free Folk, loyal to their own."
Stannis nodded, "I know," he told Jon with that same pointed look. "You're one of their own."
It made sense now, why Stannis was there. He wanted the Wildlings and he wanted the North and he thought that somehow Jon would be able to give it to him. But he was no more a Wildling than he was a Stark, he was a brother of the Night's Watch, the Lord Commander now. He shook his head, "I'm a brother of the Night's Watch," he reminded Stannis, "the newly elected Lord Commander. I have pledged them my life, my honor, my sword." He shrugged his shoulders, "I don't believe there's much left that I could give you."
"You could give me the North," Stannis told him simply.
Jon shook his head, "I can't," he told Stannis. "Even if I wanted to. I'm a bastard. A Snow."
"Kneel before me," Stannis ordered. "Place your sword at my feet, pledge me your service and you will rise again as Jon Stark."
The words made Jon's heart beat faster. It was all he had ever wanted, all he had ever wished for as a child. When he was a boy, younger even that Rickon he had thought that if he was only smart enough, good enough that Ned would have the king name decree him Stark. That if he behaved well enough he would be able to win over even Catelyn and that one day he would be a Stark, same as Robb. It had never happened. And now, here at Castle Black Stannis Baratheon was offering him everything he had ever wanted. All he need do was kneel.
He gave a single nod of his head, "I thank you for your offer," he told Stannis. "You do me a great honor. All my life I have wanted to be Jon Stark."
Stannis smiled, "Say the word and you will be," he promised.
Jon shook his head, "I have to refuse you," he told him. "I am Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. My place is here." He hoped Stannis would understand, he hoped that the older man would see that everything that made Jon worthy of being named Stark relied on him keeping his word. He had pledged his life to the Night's Watch, if he left them now, he could never deserve to be called Stark.
Stannis did not understand, he had always heard that Stannis was the lone Baratheon brother who understood duty. But he could not seem to understand why Jon's duty demanded he stay at the Wall. "I'm giving you the chance to avenge your family's deaths," he explained, as if Jon simply hadn't understood everything he was giving up. "To take back your childhood home. To rule the North."
"But I swore a sacred vow in the Godswood," Jon argued. "I pledged my life to the Night's Watch."
"You're as stubborn as your father," Stannis told him. "And as honorable," he scoffed.
"I can imagine no higher praise -"
"I didn't mean it as praise!" Stannis interrupted coldly. "Honor got your father killed." He watched Jon for a moment before he stood from the chair and moved around the desk toward the door. "But if I cannot change your mind -"
"May I ask, your Grace, how long you plan to remain at Castle Black?" Jon asked. It was not the opportune time to ask that question, but it was a question he needed an answer for. Stannis' men were already causing a strain on the Night's Watch resources.
"Are you bored of us already?" Stannis snapped, turning to stare at Jon.
Jon shook his head, "You helped us defeat Mance Rayder's army," he told the king. "We will never forget that. But it's a question of survival. The Watch cannot continue to feed your men and the Wildling prisoners indefinitely." He paused, well aware of the irony of his next words, "Winter is coming," he informed the king with a bitter twist of his lips. It hurt, to use the words he had just given up.
Stannis seemed to understand that, he nodded, "I know it," he agreed. "We march on Winterfell within the fortnight before the snows trap us here."
"And the Wildlings?" Jon asked.
Stannis shrugged, "They'd rather burn than follow me, I leave their fate to you," he told Jon. "You could execute them, that's the safest course." He paused, watching Jon's face, the reaction to his words. "Or you could see if this Tormund fellow is more willing to compromise than Mance ever was. I assume the brothers of the Night's Watch would rather see them dead."
Jon nodded grimly, "Most of them," he admitted. "There's little love for the Free Folk here."
Stannis nodded. "You're the Lord Commander," he told Jon, subtly reminding him of what he had given up. "It's your decision." He walked toward the door, but paused, turning to face Jon again. "You have many enemies at Castle Black," he told him. "Have you considered sending Alliser Thorne elsewhere?" Jon shook his head. Stannis nodded, "Give him command of Eastwatch by the Sea."
"I heard it was best to keep your enemies close," Jon countered.
Stannis smirked, "Whoever said that didn't have many enemies."
Author's Note:
Ah! I'm so sorry I kept you all waiting for so long on this chapter. Even though I was very excited about everything that happened in this chapter, it was not easy coming. Every time I sat down to write it, I started writing for a completely different fandom, or got distracted by Christmas decorating. But here, it is. Finally.
I hope that it does not read like it was hard to write. I hope that you guys enjoyed it. And I hope you are as excited as I am for what will come next.
Thank you so much for reading. Thank you for adding this story to your alerts lists. Your favorites lists. Your communities (it's in nine of them now!). But of all, thank you for all of your kind worded reviews. You guys are the reason this story is still going. I hope you know that.
LunaEvannaLongbottom: I'm so glad that you enjoyed the last chapter and I hope that you enjoyed this one as well. As for you ponderings on who will reach Lenora first ... I will give you a hint. It's someone we haven't read about in a while. And it will begin in the next chapter. Oops! That was two hints...Figured it out?
ZabuzasGirl: Thank you! I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well!
StarkTeller: Aww! I both love and hate when I make you guys cry! I love it because it means that I have done a good job of making these characters as canonically believable as I could, but I hate it because I'm really not a bitch who enjoys people's tears. But I am glad that you enjoyed the last chapter and Robb!
Also, I love you for trolling the reviews and defending Lenora before I even got the chance to. You hit every point I was going to make and I adore you for it. Thank you so much for defending her honor. I appreciate it.
RHatch89: Thank you dear, I hope that this update was equally as awesome!
Guest1995: Oh my goodness! Your review was so long! I loved it! Thank you so much. I'm really glad that you've been enjoying Robb's warging abilities. The show kind of just glossed over the fact that all the Starks seem to be wargs and that bugged the shit out of me. So I'm trying to fix it a bit here in this story. Plus, it gives me the ability to have him close to Lenora even though the stupid idiot is still traveling in the wrong direction. Stupid boy is right.
As for your question. Lenora is older than Gendry, although not by much. Because I'm playing with the ages they had in the books and shows I would say that Lenora was seventeen when she was brought up to Winterfell. Gendry is probably around seventeen now which would make Lenora a little more than a year older than him. That being said, based on her build even though she is older, he is taller.
Don't worry friend, you will definitely see the following things: Jamie and Lenora fighting side by side, Lenora meeting Gendry, a kick ass reunion between Lenora and Cersei, and (obviously after this chapter) some Stark reunions. And you are not breathing down my neck, I will be posting some of your alternative side-story ideas. I even started one of them yesterday when this chapter was giving me trouble.
bellaphant: I'm so glad that you enjoyed the last chapter! I hope you enjoyed this one too! Lenora is in a bit of trouble, but help is on the way! ... eventually.
BrittStar1199: A little bit longer friend. I'm very eager for a Lenora and Robb (Renora? Lobb?) reunion as well. But Lenora's gonna save herself first.
janaoliver: I don't want to give too much away. But out of those names you named (Robb, Gendry, Tyrion, and Jaime) there will be a meet up. I'm just not going to tell you which one.
sltsky96: Okay, your review was out of control! And I love it! Thank you so much for writing a small book and calling it a review! I am thrilled that you enjoyed the last chapter, and I hope that this chapter brought just as much to the table. I'm glad that you're enjoying the new darker, vengeful Robb. I want to keep him as much like the old Robb as I can, but at the same time he was dead for a couple of days. He's not going to be the same. He is now very aware that honor and naivety got him killed and he's not going to be so quick to feel those things anymore.
As for Cersei, I'm so happy that I've got you feeling something other than hatred for her. Don't worry, if I don't stray too far from my story outline you will be secure in your hatred for her again by the end of the story, but I'm enjoying that I'm making you doubt it a bit.
Jon's back! I love him and I couldn't leave him ignored up at the Wall for long. I wish that I could play with him and the Night's Watch so much more than this story is going to do. Because you're right, they're a wonderfully interesting part of the show and so much more so in the books. And I'm only scratching the surface in this story. But I hope while we're up here I'm managing to do them some justice. That's my saying too! I used to yell it at people I worked with who dated coworkers - you don't shit where you eat! And yes, he will not be hooking up with Dany in this story. No way.
Onto Tyrion! I'm glad that you enjoy him and Gendry together. When I first decided to send the two of them off together was months before the last season aired. So there was this moment when I felt a little vindicated when Davos and Gendry and Tyrion sailed off together. But there wasn't any bonding on the show. And as much as I enjoyed watching Gendry and Jon together I was like, where's Tyrion? So I'm glad that the two of them wandering through Westeros is making all of you so happy because they make me laugh just thinking of them.
There was never confirmation that Catelyn is 100% dead, but here it is. She's dead. Beric was only able to save one person. I decided that he was going to save Robb. As for not hearing from Jaime in a while ... hmmm. Perhaps we will hear from him soon.
Padfootette: I'm sorry I made you wait so long for me, but I hope it was worth it!
magclot23: Thank you so much for your review! I'm glad that you enjoyed the last chapter and I hope you enjoyed this one as well. Don't worry, there will be a reunion soon. I promise.
Wallflower: You and me both, friend. I'm the one keeping them apart, but I'm high-key waiting for some happily ever after too!
myafroatemydog: Oh my goodness! You are one of my new favorites! Obviously, I'm going to group my response to all SIXTY-EIGHT of your reviews into one, but please know that I really enjoyed watching you make your way through the story. And I thank you for each and every one of your reviews! You my new friend, are wonderful.
darkwolf76: Yeah, the last chapter was a bit of a breather. I had to fix that in this chapter. Gave you guys a moment to catch your breath, and then I threw Lenora out of the frying pan and into the pot as they say.
I understand that it is frustrating that he's still going south when he knows that Lenora is north, but my reasoning for that is two fold. 1. While he knows Old Nan's stories about wargs ... that's all they are to him, stories. His brain hasn't really connected the dots that these dreams that feel so real, aren't actually dreams. It will come. And 2. While someone is going to help rescue Lenora from the Boltons, she's going to do a lot of the heavy lifting on her own. There's a happily ever after in this story, but it's also one of those ones where the princess saves herself. So Robb needs to stay away for a bit longer. But yes, there will be a direwolf reunion.
No you are not evil for enjoying Margaery mocking Cersei. There is a reason I put that in. A lot of stories write Margaery as this sweet, innocent woman. And I much prefer a cunning one who knows how to play the game, just not as much as she might think which you'll see later. As for Tommen, the way I see him is that he's got a spine and he wants to be a good king, but he's young and he was never brought up to be king. And he has these two women who he loves who are trying to manipulate him. The High Sparrow isn't showing up in this story so we don't have to worry about that. But Tommen's end is going to be somewhat familiar (with my own twist, of course).
I'm glad I write Jon well. Because there's going to be so much more of him. As for my characterizations of the characters. It's a bit of a mix. Some of the characters are more based on the books, some are more based on the show, some a pretty even split. I'm lucky. The books and show are both so good that I can cherry pick what I like and what I want to expand on.
As for Tyrion and Gendry and the reunions you want to see. I don't want to give too much away, but yes. One of those scenarios will happen. And the Stark sisters, well ... you're welcome (but there will be more of their reunion in a future chapter!)
Cgv: Thank you for your review! I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well!
Danaren Reid: As always, your (massive) review made me so happy! As for your sneaky suspicion that Arya will witness Lenora's retaliation against the Boltons ... it's very possible. Maybe even probable. And there will be some scenes with the two of them. Even though they didn't spend a lot of time together in the short time they were all at Winterfell, Arya looks up to her. That will only continue now.
Lord Wildheart, that's a good thought for Robb. He's definitely more wild than he used to be. And on the path of revenge.
I hadn't really thought/planned on putting any scenes with Margaery and Tommen. But now that you mention it it could be fun. I'm going to think about it, but don't be surprised if one shows up a bit further down the line.
The pink letter will still very much happen. Since Lenora has kind of taken Sansa/Jeyne Poole's place it's going to come after she escapes (and since I've promised a battle of the bastards, after she makes it to the Wall as well). As for Sansa ... she might be there. I can't give away all my secrets.
lonala123321: Well, you are a sweetheart and my newly appointed hypeman. Suggesting this story to people that don't even watch GoT. Bold move my friend. Thank you so much! And I'm so happy that you are loving this story so far! And I'm happy to provide the two of you with another reason to fangirl together. Did you enjoy this chapter? I hope so! As for Lenora and reunions ... soon. I promise.
Kelleak: Grey Wind killing Ramsay. Hmmm. It's a good theory. But, I feel like especially after this chapter and the ones to come, it would be unfair to steal that from Lenora. And she's got a badass plan for it too. Though ... it might include Grey Wind. Perhaps.
As for your confusion ... The Hound cares for Lenora in his own way. He's been Joff's guard since he was born, so he watched Lenora grow up. That being said, he's not just heading North out of the goodness of his own heart. The Lannisters named him traitor, he thinks if he goes back to King's Landing with Lenora, that will be forgiven. He's one of the good guys, but still self-serving.
RONORA! That's it! That's the name! Yes!
CharlieSamantha: I'm so glad that you're addicted to this story right now! I hope that this chapter only served to further that addiction! I am sorry that I broke your heart when I killed Robb though. But I did bring him back. He needed something to knock him out of his naive nature, and Lenora needed a way to be pulled away from him so that she could learn to rescue herself.
It was evil. But it was a necessary evil.
Thank you so much by the way, for loving Lenora. For someone who mostly only writes OCs, it's always a bit nerve wracking to introduce a new one, especially to a universe so full of wonderful, interesting characters like GoT. So it means a lot that you guys love her so much!
As for the newly resurrected King in the North. On a scale of Jon Snow to Lady Stoneheart. He's closer to the Jon Snow end of the spectrum. He's got some gnarly scars and his personality is a bit darker than it used to be. But all the injuries were well away from his face and he wasn't let to rot as long as Catelyn was.
You rock too, friend!
dvali: Robb is not a bad swordsman, that's true, but Lenora has spent her life training with Jaime Lannister, the best swordsman in Westeros. She's going to be better. And as far as Lenora's looks, Cersei is often described as one of the most beautiful women in the Seven Kingdoms, Robert Baratheon was handsome when he was younger and fitter. While I have seen pretty people have ugly babies, it's not super common. Her chances of being beautiful with who her parents are... they're pretty high. She's not good at everything - she's stubborn, in spite of her grandfather's efforts she often acts without thinking, she can be spiteful. She's not wonderwoman as evidenced by how the Boltons have managed to treat her, but she refuses to be weak.
All that being said, I'm glad you still love the story even though Lenora annoys you sometimes.
Ena-Ena Till It Hurts: I hate Ramsay too. And he will die. He's just gotta be around for a bit longer. I promise his death will be worth the wait! Thank you so much for your review! I'm thrilled that you're enjoying the story so far! And I hope you enjoyed this one as well!
RoseAmeliaSarahNoblePond: Oh no! I don't want to break your heart! But it's still a while yet before Robb and Lenora reunite. This is a love story, but it's also a story about a princess who saves herself ... Lenora's got to do that before she finds Robb again. But don't worry, it's coming.
shadowoftheblackdeat: Hello new reviewer! I'm so glad that you're enjoying this story so far! I hope you keep enjoying it, you've got about forty-two chapters left before you catch up with me.
As for your questions about Lenora's relationships with her brother and grandfather. I will try to answer them. Joffrey did not always hate Lenora. There was a time when he was just a baby and she very clearly was ready to love him. But Joffrey grew up to be an asshole, too many years of being given exactly what he wanted, never being told no, a little too much time with Cersei and her misguided way of loving her children. Lenora punished him when he did something bad. She didn't cower. She wasn't afraid. It would have started as a mild dislike and then grown into hatred. Tie that in with the rumors that she is their father's only trueborn heir and in his mind, he only had one choice. She had to die.
As for Tywin. Lenora talks about him a little bit in future chapters. He enjoyed her more than Tommen and Myrcella. And perhaps in a more real way than how he felt about Joffrey. He put up with Joffrey because he would be king. He spent time with Lenora because she was smart and strong willed, and he enjoyed it. He would have been protective of her to a point. When it comes to Tywin Lannister love only goes so far, before duty kicks in. He cared for Lenora, but he would not risk his House's future for her.
Gamemaster77: Don't worry! You might be late for your review! But I am so late for this new update that you still beat me! So it's all good. I'm glad that you are enjoying the Warging between Robb and Grey Wind. I am making a point to put my fair share of it in this story entirely because they didn't put it in the show and that bugs me too! Robb will leave the brotherhood soon, but he needs to be there for a bit longer, he has some things to learn. And he needs to have a reunion with someone before he goes. All coming up in good time.
Thank you for saying that I don't need to worry about getting Jon's voice wrong. Surprisingly enough, in this chapter, his POV was the easiest to write for me. That was a bit of a shock.
As for Cersei ... I've got some fun planned for her. It will be similar to cannon, but with a bit of a twist to it. One that none of you have seen coming yet. And one that I hope you guys enjoy, even though it will be a bit painful to read.
I'm glad that you guys are loving Tyrion and Gendry so much. That was one of the surprises I have had planned for a while now and I was committed to it even though I wasn't sure how it was going to work. But I'm really glad I did. They're these two characters that have absolutely no reason to be together, but they just ... they fit. And it was something that I had never seen done before so I got to play with it. I liked that.
Lenora ... you said you wanted to hear about her. Your wish is my command. Still want more Lenora in the next chapter?
Muahahahaha.
That's all I have for now my wonderful readers and reviewers! Thank you once again for reading! Go fill that review box with more review love and I will be back soon with another chapter!
Until next time,
Chloe Jane.