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I own Lenora Baratheon, nothing more.
Here it is, the long awaited update! No I did not forget you, just was super busy my last week off, but I did not forget you guys and I hope that you know that!
Chapter Seventy-Five: A Woman's Game
Jaime
They had been at Castle Black for almost a month. Lenora's men had arrived a little more than week after she did, since then most of them had recuperated and started training. Each morning he and Lenora would leave Castle Black with her men, they stuck close to the castle, Jaime still worried about enemy forces, but in the snow covered emptiness just south of the Wall they trained. Each day they got stronger.
Each day Jaime got stronger. For the first time since Tyrion had suggested it, he actually thought that he might stand a chance fighting with his left hand. The first day they left Arya snuck out after them, always staying out of sight, hiding behind trees. But she wasn't as much of a shadow as she thought she was. If he wasn't training himself, he could hear it, her tiny little sword whistling through the air. He could see her movements out of the corner of his eye.
She was watching what they were doing. And practicing as well.
He let her think she was fooling everyone for four days before he snuck up on her, leaning against a tree and watching her as she practiced with her back to him. When she finally turned, she seemed surprised to see him, her pale blue eyes widened for a moment and her jaw clenched. "Tell me, Stark," Jaime drawled out, still leaning against the tree. "Are you planning on fighting the bastard too?"
Her eyes narrowed and she lifted her sword, extending it toward him in a challenge. "It's my home," she told him, her gaze intense. Her lips tugged down at the corners when he did not immediately lift his sword to meet her challenge. "Of course I mean to fight for it."
Jaime snorted, she would be easy to beat, the girl, even with only his left hand. He lifted his sword and moved closer to her, turning sideface and standing on the balls of his feet, ready to move as soon as she attacked. "You're so little though," he teased her as she lunged forward, her tiny sword clashing against his larger one. She had been intent on driving him backwards, he didn't budge an inch. "Do you really thing that your brother or your sister will let you?"
He jerked his sword to the left, sending her own down toward the ground, the tiny girl stumbling after it. It was a wonder that her blade did not break in two.
She glared at him, "They don't have to know," she told him defiantly. He almost would have believed her confidence if her eyes hadn't been begging him to keep her secret.
"Do you think I will let you?" he asked her, chuckling as he moved forward, swinging his sword gently in her direction, she blocked it with a Half Iron Gate, whoever had started her training had done fairly well.
"You let Lenora fight when she was my age," the little Stark girl countered, stepping away from him.
Jaime snorted, "Not in a war," he told her, attacking again. This time it was a Boar's Tooth defense. He watched as she threw her sword into her left hand and attacked him again. Ah, he thought to himself, that's what it is. He had seen something other in her fighting when she had practiced with the Hound on their journey. Bravosi water dancing.
"You don't know what I'm capable of, Kingslayer," she argued. "You don't know what I've done."
"Killed a man, have you?" he asked her, half joking. Something in the way she stopped moving to look at him made him think that perhaps she had. He nodded, "With that little toothpick?"
Her face darkened, "No," she told him. "With a different sword. He had stolen this one."
Jaime nodded, lowering his sword toward the ground before he jerked it up, the broad side of the blade hitting the girl's hand and sending her sword into the air. It was so little, it was not too much work to catch it in his left hand so that he was holding both blades in his good hand. "You want to be like the princess?" he asked the girl, staring her down.
She glared at him for taking her sword, but she nodded earnestly. "She's strong," Arya told him. "And brave. I heard her on the first night we were here. She and Jon thought we were sleeping but I was only pretending. She doesn't let anyone tell her no."
Jaime smirked, the girl was right in that. He had spent the last month trying to talk Lenora out of it all. He tried to tell her no when he realized that the Snow boy was too stupid to do it himself. When they had ridden to Castle Black he had hoped that perhaps Jon Snow would say no when she told him of her plan to take Winterfell from the Boltons. And perhaps the boy had. But she hadn't listened to either of them. And every day they spent with the Night's Watch she seemed to become even more determined. She didn't let anyone tell her no.
He supposed he was partly to blame for that. She had heard the word so rarely when she was in his care.
"One of the first rules of sword play I ever taught Len was that if you lose your sword in a fight, you don't deserve to have it," he told the Stark girl, staring pointedly at the tiny blade in his hand.
Her blue eyes narrowed into a glare. "Give it back," she ordered him.
He smirked and shook his head, remembering the day he had taught Lenora this same lesson. "Take it from me," he ordered her.
The girl let out a noise, something between a war cry and a groan before she lunged forward, swordless and desperate.
After that afternoon, she came every day to train. No longer hiding or sneaking, but walking proudly with Lenora and Jaime. Jaime and Lenora would alternate, one training with the men, the other practicing with Arya. Each of them teaching her things that the other couldn't. It was still out of the question, letting her fight against the Boltons. But after that afternoon she never let anyone take her sword again.
...
"My lady, Ser Jaime," Ser Justin called out to them one afternoon, approaching them quickly with two horses. "It's time to go."
Lenora glanced at the knight, the young Massey knight had quickly risen in her favor. She trusted him and his judgement. She liked him. But she did not take well to being ordered by him. "It's not yet evening," she argued. "We still have much to do."
"Our scouts spotted a Bolton rider," Ser Justin told them, his gaze falling on Jaime. He knew that Lenora might not be swayed, but her uncle would be. "Still a few miles out and he appears to be alone, but we won't take chances."
Lenora arched an eyebrow, "It seems that I would be the one to take the chance, Ser Justin," she countered. "What if I want to risk it?"
The knight shook his head, pressing the reins of the first horse into her hand. "These men follow you, my lady. I follow you, my lady. We would name you queen. We will not take a chance on our queen."
Jaime waited, thinking that she might argue with him still. But then his niece surprised him by turning toward Arya, "Arya," she called out to the young girl. "It's time we return to the castle. Ride with me?"
After Arya nodded and moved, somewhat reluctantly toward the horse Lenora turned back to Ser Justin, "See all the men safely returned to Castle Black," she ordered him as she climbed into the saddle.
Jaime stared at her as he helped give the young Stark girl a boost. Lenora smirked at him, waiting silently for the question she knew was coming. He climbed into his own saddle and they started to ride back toward the Wall before he spoke. "Who are you?" he asked the young woman riding beside him. "And what have you done with my headstrong, stubborn niece."
"I'm still here, Uncle Jaime," she told him, her smirk softening into a rueful twist of her lips, the ghost of a smile. She glanced down at Arya for a moment, cautious and unsure, "I saw Robb ignore the advice from his advisors many times," she told him. "I saw them turn on him. I saw him die for it." She shook her head, her grey eyes stormy and distant as she looked away from him. "I will not let him die in vain. I will learn the lessons he should have."
...
The Bolton rider was so far out that it was evening before he arrived at Castle Black, carrying a white flag as a symbol of peace and delivering a letter for the Lord Commander. He had not been allowed past the courtyard and under Jon's instructions the Black Brothers had not offered him a bed in their keep as was the usual custom. They gave him a new horse and sent him toward Moletown to find a bed until he was ready for the return ride to Winterfell.
They had been inside the Lord Commander's chambers when the rider arrived. Lenora, Jaime, the Stark girls, the wench, Jon Snow, his Black Brother Edd, a giant red haired Wildling man named Tormund, and Ser Justin were all eating dinner, trying to pretend that they weren't all anxiously awaiting his arrival.
When the horn sounded, once for a rider he was informed, they all jumped. Even if they hadn't known that the rider came from Winterfell, he would have known the man was an enemy by the way Grey Wind began to growl. The wolf could smell the man from the chamber, and he did not trust him. That was enough for Jaime.
It was one of the men from the Knight's Watch, a steward who brought the scroll to them.
In their worry they were all eating quietly. At one point Edd glanced up across the table at the Stark girls. Arya seemed to have no problem with the food, she had persuaded Jon to practice swordplay with her in the courtyard that afternoon and she was tired, that paired with her anxiousness made her hungry. Sansa on the other hand, sitting between Arya and Lenora was picking at her food delicately, leaving most of it on her plate.
"I'm sorry about the food," Edd apologized to the eldest Stark sister. "It's not what we're known for."
"That's alright," Sansa told the man, smiling at him as her blue eyes swept toward Lenora, "there are more important things.
In the month they had spent at Castle Black the bruises had faded from Lenora's skin. The cuts on her face and her neck had healed with very little scaring. But there was a deep cut on her right collarbone that had not healed completely, and when it did there would be a raised scar. And sometimes after an afternoon of difficult sword play the back of Lenora's shirt would be wet and stained with blood from wounds on her back that she never let Jaime see, torn open again by her movements.
Yes, Lenora was a walking, talking, breathing reminder that there were much worse, much more important things than the bad food at Castle Black.
The steward knocked on the door before he entered, moving straight toward Jon Snow. "A letter for you, Lord Commander," he announced, holding out a sealed scroll to Jon.
"I'm not Lord Commander anymore," the young man told him. And then after a moment he took the scroll. Even if they hadn't been waiting for it all afternoon, it was easy to see why Jon took it. The seal was red, it bore the sigil of the flayed man. There were only two people at the table that letter could have been meant for.
He stared down at the seal for a moment, his dark eyes involuntarily lifting to gaze at Lenora before he slid the seal off the scroll and dropped it on the table, far out of her reach. Lenora took a deep shaky breath and forced a tight smile onto her lips, "We all know who it's from, Jon," she told the young man, her eyes never leaving the seal. "You don't need to hide it for my sake."
Jon stared at her for a moment longer before he sighed and unrolled the letter.
"To the traitor and bastard, Jon Snow,
You allowed thousands of Wildlings past the Wall. You have betrayed your own kind. You have betrayed the North. Winterfell is mine, bastard.
Come and see.
The false southern king is dead, bastard. He and all his host were smashed in seven days of battle. Their heads upon the walls of Winterfell.
Come and see."
He glanced up at Lenora, his eyes warm and sympathetic. She neither needed, nor wanted his sympathy. She waved at him to continue, no doubt waiting as Jaime was to see if Ramsay knew that she was there.
Jaime reached out for her under the table and grabbed her hand, squeezing it tightly. She squeezed back, her nails digging into his skin with the effort to keep her hand from shaking.
Jon turned back to the letter.
"Your brother Rickon is in my dungeon -"
Again Jon paused, this time his gaze landing on Sansa and Arya, his dark eyes wide. Sansa dropped her fork, no longer pretending to want to eat. Arya's fists clenched around her knife, the tiny, useless blade shaking in her hand.
Lenora groaned quietly, shaking her head and for a moment leaning into Jaime for support. "Theon," she groaned, finally realizing why the man who had helped her escape had not come with her. He had stayed behind for Rickon.
Jon turned back to the letter, starting again from the last line.
"Your brother Rickon is in my dungeon. His Direwolf's fur is on my floor. The beast's head hangs on the wall in the Hall.
Come and see.
I want my bride back. Send her to me, bastard, and I will not trouble you or your Wildling lovers. Keep her from me and I will ride north and slaughter every Wildling man, woman, and babe living under your protection.
You will watch as I skin them living, you will -"
He cut himself off, shaking his head and dropping the letter back to the table. Jaime could not blame him, he could barely stomach what he was hearing himself, he could hardly imagine having to read out loud.
"Go on," Lenora commanded him. Her voice no longer shook.
Jon shook his head again, pulling the letter as close to him as he could so that she couldn't see it. "It's just more of the same," he told her, his voice cold and dark.
Lenora let go of Jaime's hand and stood from her seat, leaning across the table so that she could grab the letter from him before she sat back down.
"Nora," Jon warned, his word a caution that she did not heed.
Her hands shook when she unrolled the parchment. But her voice was strong.
"You will watch as my soldiers take turns raping your good sister. Not even her one handed uncle will be able to save her. You will watch as I peel the skin from her body one piece at a time. You will watch as she suffers.
Come and see.
You will watch as my dogs devour your wild little brother. You will watch when I turn your two younger sisters into my new toys. Then I will spoon your eyes from your sockets and let my dogs do the rest.
Come and see.
Ramsay Bolton, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North."
Jaime turned to look at her, his mouth hanging open. She had told him several times not to think or worry about her time at Winterfell. She had sworn to him that it was not nearly as terrible as he wanted to imagine. But as he listened to everything Ramsay Bolton planned to do to not only Lenora, but the rest of his companions at the table he realized, bone deep, that for perhaps the first time in her life, Lenora had lied to him.
He began to wonder if it were even possible for him to imagine something worse than what Ramsay Bolton wanted to do to the girl sitting beside him.
Lenora cleared her throat and dropped the letter on the table.
"He has Rickon?" Sansa asked, looking between Jon and Lenora, tears filling her blue eyes.
"We don't know that," Jon told her softly.
"Yes we do," Lenora interrupted him. "It will do no good to lie to her, Jon. This whole time, since my escape, I have wondered why Theon did not come with me. Why he stayed behind. It was for Rickon. I wouldn't have left if I had known, he knew that."
"So a monster has our home and our brother?" Sansa asked, her eyes locked on Jon's face.
"And is calling himself by Father's titles," Arya added, her jaw tight.
The Wildling man turned to Lenora, "How many men does he have in his army?"
For a moment Lenora was quiet, thinking, "I heard him say five thousand once while talking about my uncle's attack," she told him. She turned to glance toward Jaime and Brienne. "There weren't many Bolton men on that battlefield."
"No," Jaime confirmed for her, shaking his head. He was having trouble speaking, he was still trying to process everything from the letter. His hand was shaking.
Jon turned toward the Wildling. "How many do you have?"
"That can march and fight?" the Wildling asked, his eyes moving across the table as he counted in his head. "Two thousand. The rest are children and old people."
Jaime watched as Jon's head dropped, his gaze on the table. He felt defeated, a feeling Jaime knew well. He leaned forward, rapping his fist against the table to get the boy's attention. "You are the son of the last true Warden of the North, boy," he told Jon. "Northern families are loyal, they will fight for you if you ask."
He seemed surprised to be getting encouragement from Jaime Lannister, but the boy nodded.
-.-.-.-.-
Sansa
Jon was angry. The day before he had let Lenora, Ser Jaime, and Sansa herself convince him that they needed to take Winterfell back from Ramsay Bolton. But now, as they sat at a table, staring at a map of the North, marked with Ramsay's forces and their own he seemed to realize that it would be a difficult, near impossible task.
"We need more men," he growled, glaring down at the map as he walked away from the table.
Sansa lifted her gaze, it darting between Lenora and Jaime, waiting for one of them to speak up. Neither did, they were leaning into each other, their eyes glued to the map on the table, whispering to each other so quietly that their lips barely moved. Whatever they were discussing they were not ready to share with the others yet. It was Ser Davos, the smuggler turned knight turned Hand of the King and Stannis' closest advisor who spoke up.
"Aside from the Starks and the Boltons the most powerful Houses in the North are the Umbers, the Karstarks, and the Manderlys," he told them, pointing at the Houses respective keeps in turn. Sansa's lips turned up at the corners, the man had worked hard to earn his position as Stannis' Hand. There was absolutely no reason for a Southern smuggler to know the Great Northern Houses, but this man had. He reminded her a bit of Maester Luwin when he spoke.
He stood, reaching out for the rocks that had been painted with the Karstark sigil, "The Karstarks have already declared for the Boltons so we're not doing so well there."
Sansa's gaze darted to Jon, "The Karstarks killed Bran, as far as I am concerned, they can hang," she announced, her voice as hard as the men's around the table. She sighed then, "But they declared for the Boltons before they knew that they had another choice. They could redeem themselves -"
"Begging your pardon, my lady," Ser Davos interrupted her. "But they know that a Stark beheaded their father. I don't think they'll want to redeem themselves."
He had a point, Sansa could admit that. But she was not ready to back down yet. "How well do you know the North, Ser Davos?" she asked him.
"Precious little, my lady," the older man admitted.
She nodded, "My father always said that Northerners were different. More loyal, more suspicious of outsiders -"
"They may very well be loyal," Ser Davos interrupted her again. "But how many of them rose up against the Boltons when they betrayed your family?"
She had no answer for that. But Lenora did. "None of them," the princess whispered, pulling away from her uncle so that she could watch both Sansa and Jon, aware of how much her words would hurt them. "Not a single one. They didn't all declare for the Boltons like the Karstarks, but they didn't stand against them either. Their silence bought their safety. And that was more important than loyalty."
Ser Davos nodded, "I may not know the North, but I know men," Ser Davos told her. "They're more or less the same in every corner of the world. And even the bravest of them don't want to see their wives and children skinned for a lost cause. If Jon's going to convince them to fight along side him, he needs to convince them it's a fight they can win."
Ser Jaime leaned forward now, his golden hand landing on the map. "There are more than three Houses in the North," he suggested. "Glover, Mormont, Cerwyn, Mazin, Hornwood. And two dozen more. Together they equal all the others."
He glanced up at Jon, the gold hand still tapping the map, he nodded. Jon nodded as well, "We can start small and build," he agreed. "Many of the smaller houses would have escaped Ramsay's notice. He won't expect us to gather our strength there because he wouldn't do it that way."
"The North remembers," Sansa told them, nodding. "They remember the Stark name. People will still risk everything for it. From White Harbor to Ramsay's own door."
"I don't doubt it," Ser Davos told her, his eyes darting toward Jon. "But Jon doesn't have the Stark name."
"No," Lenora agreed. "But I do." She glanced across the table at Sansa, "And so does she. And Arya too." She turned to Jon. "Take us with you when you meet with the other Houses. Let us be a reminder of the House they have tried to forget."
Jon shook his head, "Len -" he started. Sansa knew that he wanted to involve them as little as possible. He was even hesitant about Lenora, though he had no chance of keeping her from the battle.
"I was their queen, Jon," Lenora told him, standing from her seat. "They may be keeping their heads down and not pressing their luck against the Boltons. But they can't forget that. I was not born a Stark, but I chose to be one. I chose to be their queen. Bring me with you, let them stare at me, the queen they abandoned. Let me be a reminder of the king they couldn't save."
Jon sighed, still unhappy, but Sansa could already see in his eyes that he would agree. It was decided that they would leave Castle Black and travel to some of the smaller Northern Houses in two days time, it would be a small group, so as not to attract unwanted attention, but Sansa and Arya would be part of it.
As they left the hall to start making their arrangements Lenora moved to stand beside Sansa. "You did well," the older girl told her. "Much better than I did at my first war council."
Sansa shook her head, "He wouldn't have listened to me if it weren't for you," she admitted, watching Jon as he, Ser Davos, Tormund, and Ser Jaime left the room together, still talking quietly. "I will always bee a little girl in his eyes."
Lenora shook her head, "Then make him listen to you," she suggested. "You didn't sound like a little girl to me."
Sansa scoffed, "Please don't say that I sounded like a younger you," she joked as they started to leave the room.
Lenora watched her for a moment, her grey eyes a shade darker, a rueful smile settling on her lips. "I wouldn't have," she finally admitted. "I thought you sounded -" she cut herself off and shook her head. "It doesn't matter."
"Who?" Sansa asked, suddenly sure that it did matter. "Who did I sound like?"
"My mother," Lenora told her quietly. "You sounded like Cersei."
For a moment Sansa felt bile rising in her throat. The last person in the Seven Kingdoms that she wanted to be compared to was Cersei Lannister. The woman was horrible, she was a vile monster who didn't care about anything and anyone except her own family. She was cold and calculating and evil. She was callous and cruel, and so - intelligent. The bile was back, this time in response to her own thoughts. She did not want to think that even a part of her respected anything about Cersei Lannister. "I learned a great deal from her," she admitted, her voice quiet and timid.
She glanced up at Lenora, expecting to see judgement or anger, it was what she would have seen if she had had the conversation with Arya, but Lenora's face was soft, sympathetic. She nodded, "My mother is very good with those," she admitted in a whisper. "The lessons." She was quiet for a moment, still staring at Sansa as if searching for something. "But take care that you don't learn them too well," she warned.
Sansa nodded. Lenora watched her for a moment longer before she turned to leave the hall. Sansa followed behind, but instead of going to the chamber she shared with Arya she turned to head toward the maester's chambers. There was no maester at Castle Black now, but there were still ravens and parchment and quills.
And if she had finally come to terms with the fact that a part of her respected Cersei Lannister she might as well start using the lessons she had learned under the terrible queen. And one of the things Cersei had taught her was that she didn't need to like someone or even trust them to use them. All that mattered was that she had leverage.
...
The great hall on Bear Island was smaller than Sansa would have imagined. It was dark, light streaming in from only one window, and empty. When she, Jon, Lenora, and Ser Davos entered the hall they equaled the number of Mormont men. Ser Jaime had wanted to come too, but Lenora had thought it better that they not bring a Lannister knight to any of their proceedings.
They had sent ravens to all the Lesser Northern Houses. And as of yet, House Mormont had been the only one to respond.
The Lady of the House, a young girl of perhaps nine was seated in the High Seat between her maester and Master of Arms. And she did not look happy to see them.
"Lady Mormont," Jon greeted her, inclining his head.
She stared at him for a moment, the corners of her lips drawn down into a frown. "Welcome to Bear Island," she told them, her gaze landing on each visitor in turn, though not looking particularly welcoming. She said nothing more, leaving her visitors to feel awkward and uncomfortable, scrambling for something to say to fill the silence and make the young girl more inclined to listen to their plea.
Jon turned, glancing at Sansa, his eyes wide, silently asking her for help. Sansa swallowed and nodded, "I remember when you were born, my lady," she said softly, smiling at the girl though she got little encouragement in return. "You were named for my aunt Lyanna. It is said she was a great beauty, I'm sure you will be too -"
"I doubt it," the little lady interrupted her, her voice stern. "My mother wasn't a great beauty, or any other kind of beauty. She was a great warrior though. She died fighting for your brother Robb."
The smile died on Sansa's lips as Lyanna turned toward Jon. An eyebrow raised, silently waiting for his attempt at changing her mind. Sansa glanced at Jon, her own eyes wide this time.
"I served under your uncle at Castle Black, Lady Lyanna," Jon started. "He was also a great warrior and an honorable man. I was his steward. In fact I -"
"I think we've had enough small talk," Lyanna interrupted again. Her voice just as hard and unfriendly as it had been when she spoke to Sansa. "Why are you here?"
Jon hesitated for a moment before he spoke. "Stannis Baratheon garrisoned at Castle Black before he marched on Winterfell and was killed. He showed me the letter you wrote to him when he petitioned for men. It said -"
"I remember what it said," Lyanna snapped at him, impatient as only a child pretending to be an adult could be. It was a tone that Sansa knew she had used often as a child herself. "Bear Island knows no King, but the King in the North, whose name is Stark."
Jon was quiet for a moment, stilled by such loyal words from such a young girl. "Robb is gone," he told Lyanna, Sansa watched as his dark eyes shifted to look at Lenora as he said the words as well. "But House Stark is not. And it needs your support now more than ever. I've come with my sisters to ask for House Mormont's allegiance." He gestured toward Sansa and Lenora in turn.
Lyanna watched him for a moment before she leaned toward her maester, whispering to him before turning back, her stubborn gaze on Sansa again. "Lady Sansa is a Lannister," she told Jon, her gaze turning toward Lenora for the first time since their group had entered the hall. "And Lady Lenora is a Baratheon, or perhaps a Bolton. I've heard conflicting reports."
Sansa took a step forward, angry on both their behalf. "We did what we needed to survive," she defended. "But I am a Stark. I will always be a Stark."
Lyanna seemed almost bored by Sansa's defense. She turned to look at Lenora, her brows still raised. "And you have nothing to say for yourself, Lady Lenora?" she asked.
Lenora watched her for a moment, no doubt debating what she should say. "The first time I met your mother she was yelling at Robb," she told the young girl, her lips tugging up at the corners at the memory. Sansa wanted to interrupt her, she wanted to tell Lenora that going the sentimental route with this girl would not work, but it was too late, Lyanna was watching her too closely for her to stop now. "Robb had called all the banners and he thought to give your mother an order. She told him that he was young enough to be her grandson and had no business giving her commands, but she had a granddaughter she would be willing to have him marry. She was a She-Bear through and through and so strong. Your sister Dacey was the same way, Dacey was part of Robb's personal guard and one of the few people I trusted to keep him alive and safe on the battlefield."
She was quiet for a moment, watching Lyanna carefully. The princess seemed surprised that the girl hadn't interrupted her yet. "Your mother and sister fought for what they believed in - a North, no longer ruled by a southern king, but by a Stark. They died for that belief. Now, Jon Snow might not bear the name Stark, but he has Ned Stark's blood running through his veins. He has Robb Stark's blood running through his veins. If you wish for your mother and your sister to die in vain, then by all means send us away. But if you want their deaths to mean anything at all, then give Jon your allegiance."
The girl turned her gaze on Jon. "You don't want just my allegiance though, you want my fighting men."
Jon nodded, "Ramsay Bolton cannot be allowed to continue to hold Winterfell, my lady," he told her. "What you must understand is -"
"I understand that I am responsible for every man, woman, and child on Bear Island," Lyanna interrupted. "Tell me, why should I risk one more Mormont life on someone else's war."
Jon stilled, turning to look at first Sansa and then Lenora, hoping that one of them could explain it to her. His gaze lingered on Lenora, the only one to be able to finish her statement with the young girl. But it was Ser Davos who spoke up, stepping forward into the young girl's view. "If it please, my lady, I understand how you feel."
Lyanna shook her head, "I don't know you. Ser?"
"Davos, my lady, of House Seaworth." Davos smiled as Lyanna leaned toward her maester again. "You needn't ask your maester about my House, my Lady, it's rather new."
She turned back to him and nodded, "Very well, Ser Davos of House Seaworth. How is it you know how I feel?"
"You never imagined you would find yourself in your current position," he told her, seeming more sure of himself as he continued to speak. "To be responsible for so many lives at such a young age. I never imagined myself in my position. I was a crabber's son, then I was a smuggler, and now I find myself addressing the Lady of a Great House in time of war. But I'm here because this isn't someone else's war. It's ours. It's his war," he nodded toward Jon. "And hers," he nodded toward Lenora. "And the Lady Sansa's. And yours as well, my lady."
Lyanna raised a silent eyebrow, go on. Ser Davos nodded, "As long as House Bolton holds Winterfell the North is divided," he told the girl. "You are responsible for every life on Bear Island and yet you still hold loyal to House Stark. Ramsay Bolton will not let that stand for long. He will come for you as he will for every other House in the North that defies him or remains quietly loyal to House Stark. For now, he is weakened by his battle with Stannis Baratheon, but that will not be the case for long. Join us to fight for him now and we will return the North to the way it was, safe and proud and loyal to the Stark name."
Lyanna stared at the four of them for a moment before her dark eyes moved to Jon. "House Mormont has kept the faith with House Stark for a thousand years," she told him. She paused, watching them. Sansa crossed her fingers behind the folds of her dark gown, waiting. "We will not break faith today."
Beside her she heard Jon release a shaky breath that he had been holding. She felt her lips turn up at the corners. When she glanced at Lenora, the princess was smirking. Jon stepped forward, his head bowed, "Thank you, my lady," he told her emphatically. He paused, not wanting to seem ungrateful and unpracticed in the ways of diplomacy, but then he asked, "How many fighting men can we expect?"
This time when Lyanna turned, it was not to her maester, but to her master-at-arms. They whispered for a moment before she nodded and returned her gaze to Jon. "Sixty-two," she told him, her voice leaving little room for argument.
Jon's brows furrowed, his face fell, "Sixty-two?" he echoed. Sansa sighed, it was even less than Lenora's eighty men. And would help very little against Ramsay's five thousand.
"We are not a large House, but we are a proud one!" Lyanna defended. "And every man from Bear Island fights with the strength of ten mainlanders!"
"If they're half as ferocious as their lady the Boltons are doomed," Ser Davos cut in, soothing the young girl.
She smiled.
Lenora chuckled as their party left the Hall. Sansa looked at her, "What is so funny?" she asked, leaning in closer to the princess so that they could whisper without anyone else hearing them.
Lenora was still laughing softly, "I cannot wait for her to meet Arya."
-.-.-.-.-
Lenora
Their arrival at Deepwood Mott was met with even less welcome as their initial arrival on Bear Island. The new Lord Glover wouldn't even let them past the courtyard. He did not give Jon a chance to plead their case. He stared at them, jaw clenched, eyes narrowed. "The answer is no," he growled at them before Jon could even open his mouth. "We've only just taken back this castle from the Ironborn. The Boltons helped us do it. Now you want me to fight against them?" He shook his head, "I could be skinned for even talking to you."
"The Boltons are traitors," Jon argued. "Roose Bolton -"
"What other Northern Houses have pledged to fight for you?" Lord Glover interrupted. The entire time he spoke he made a point to keep his gaze on Jon. He barely looked at Sansa. He never looked at Lenora.
"House Mormont," Jon told the man honestly.
"And?" Lord Glover pushed.
Jon sighed, "We've sent ravens to Houses Manderly -"
"I don't care about ravens," Lord Glover interrupted. "You're asking me to join your army. Who is fighting in this army?"
Jon glanced at Lenora, silently asking her what he should tell the older man. Lenora shook her head, whatever you do don't mention the - "The bulk of the force is made up of wildlings," Jon answered the man, saying exactly what Lenora had not wanted him to.
Lord Glover laughed, low and dark, biting and bitter. "Then the rumors are true," he mused. "I didn't dare believe them." He stared at Jon for a moment and the next time he spoke his words were softer, his tone almost kinder, but it still held the bite it had carried since the beginning of their meeting. "I agreed to meet with you out of respect for your father. Now I would like you to leave. House Glover will not abandon its ancestral home to fight alongside wildlings."
He turned and started to walk away when Sansa stopped him, angry. "I would remind you that House Glover is pledged to House Stark," she told him sharply. Lenora reached out, trying to silence the girl, but Lord Glover had already turned around to face her. "Sworn to answer when called upon."
"Yes," Lord Glover told Sansa, glaring at her. To the girl's credit, she did not back down. "My family has served House Stark for centuries. We wept when we heard of your father's death. When my brother was lord of this castle he answered Robb's call and hailed him King in the North."
Now he turned, his glare landing on Lenora. "And where was King Robb when the Ironborn came for this castle? When they threw my wife and daughters in prison? And brutalized and raped our subjects?" He scoffed, his eyes still on Lenora. "Taking up with his Lannister bride and getting himself and those who followed him killed. We served House Stark, but House Stark is dead."
Lenora shook her head. She had not asked for the man's tirade and anger, but since a good deal of it had been centered on her she would answer it so that Sansa did not have to. "House Stark is not dead, Lord Glover," she told him, lifting her chin so that she could stare the man in the eye. "Any more than House Glover was when the Ironborn held Deepwood Mott. I am sorry Robb was not able to help you take back your keep, I am sorry that it was the Boltons who did so, but I can promise you that winter is coming for the enemies of House Stark, and if I were you I would not want to be one of them."
The man scoffed, "And are you going to deal it, my lady?" he asked her, picking up on her use of the Stark's words as a threat. His gaze drifted toward Jon, "If the boy were smart he would keep you far from the battlefield. You were King Robb's down fall. And war is not a game for a woman to play."
Lenora shook her head, "You say that war is not a woman's game, Lord Glover, but you have seen me at war. I know how to play. I learned from the best. You may not think it is a game for women, but you will watch me play it. And I promise you, I will be better at it than the Boltons."
...
They were waiting for him in a field just north of Winterfell. Lenora had not realized that her uncle's forces had pressed so close to the keep during their battle - she had found Stannis miles from here. She could see Winterfell in the distance. If Stannis had been successful she would not have had to escape from Ramsey. She and Rickon would already be free.
Now she was back, staring at the group of riders approaching from the keep. She was on a horse, between Jon and Jaime. Behind her Bronn, Tormund, Lyanna Mormont, Ser Davos, and Ser Justin. They had left the girls with Brienne and Sandor and the majority of their force at their camp in the Wolf's Wood. The wolves were there too. When they had saddled up earlier that day to meet Ramsay and his men outside of Winterfell Grey Wind had moved to her side, prepared to travel with her. No, she had told the wolf, speaking to him as she would speak to a man. You must stay here. Protect the girls.
The wolf had whined, both an angry and disappointed sound. But he had listened to her.
Now, as she watched Ramsay approach she regretted her decision. She wished she had brought the wolf with her.
"You don't have to be here," Jon told her, his voice soft and full of concern, his eyes never leaving the approaching party.
"Yes,I do," Lenora argued. She hoped that, perhaps, her presence would shake Ramsay, leave him feeling nervous. Though as the riders got closer she realized that it was she that was shaken. Her fists clenched around her reins as she fought every instinct to turn around and ride away from this meeting as fast as her horse could take her.
He was riding Casterly.
"Len," Jaime started, no doubt recognizing her horse.
"Not now, Uncle Jaime," she interrupted him. Her eyes narrowing as three riders separated from the rest of Ramsay's small group and continued to approach them. It was Ramsay and two Karstark men. "Later, if you must, but not now."
When Ramsay reined Casterly, his pale blue eyed gaze landed on Lenora first. The dark horse recognized her, pulling against the reins slightly in an attempt to get closer to her. Ramsay yanked the reins back sharply. "My beloved wife," he sneered at her, smirking as Lenora winced at the sound of his voice. "I've missed you terribly." Then he turned, his gaze drifting between Jon and Jaime, taking in their tense postures, their clenched jaws. His smirk widened and his blue eyes sparkled, he was enjoying this. "Thank you for returning Lady Bolton safely," he told them, no doubt laughing to himself at the great joke of it all. "Now, dismount and kneel before me, surrender your army and declare me the true Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North." His gaze fell solely on Jon. "I will pardon you for deserting the Night's Watch. I will pardon these treasonous lords for betraying my House."
He was met with silence and glares, none darker than Lyanna Mormont's.
He sighed, his voice softening, "Come, bastard," he entreated Jon, as if he too weren't the bastard son of a Lord. "You don't have the men. You don't have the horses. And you don't have Winterfell. Why lead these poor souls into slaughter? There's no need for a battle. Get off your horse and kneel." His gaze drifted to Lenora, "As my wife can tell you, I am a man of mercy."
Jon nodded, turning his own head to study Lenora for a moment. "I've heard all about your version of mercy," he told Ramsay, bringing his gaze forward again. "I believe we differ on the meaning of the word. But you are right, there is no need for a battle. And thousands of men don't need to die. Only one of us." He paused for a moment, staring Ramsay down. "Let's end this the old way. You against me."
Lenora turned her head sharply, watching Jon for a moment. When discussing and planning this meeting he had never suggested doing this. She thought him smarter than that. Ramsay would never agree to it. He had to know that.
She heard Ramsay scoff, laughing to himself. "I keep hearing stories about you, bastard. The way people in the North talk about you, you're the greatest swordsman who ever walked." He paused and shook his head, "Maybe you are that good. Maybe not. I don't know if I'd beat you, but I know that my army would beat yours. I have six thousand men. You have ... what?" he paused, his brows furrowed. "Half that? Not even?"
"Aye," Jon agreed with a nod, and an almost smile. He was better at this, the taunting, than he had been at diplomacy. Lenora wondered if it was just that he was finally angry enough. "You are right, you have the numbers." His gaze left Ramsay to search out the two Karstark men. "But will your men still want to fight for you when they hear that you weren't willing to fight for them?"
There was a moment of silence when Ramsay realized what had just happened. Lenora sighed quietly. Jon had known all along that Ramsay wouldn't agree to it. He had wanted the Karstarks to know that Ramsay did not care if they lived or died as long as he won. Ramsay's silence was all the answer they needed. He scoffed, his jaw clenched. He didn't like it. He had come to play games with them, and right now he was beaten. His gaze landed on Lenora as he pointed toward Jon. "He's good," he told her, as if they were playing a friendly game. His tone did not match his eyes. "Very good."
His pale eyes drifted back to Jon. "But tell me, will you let your little brother die because you were too proud to surrender?"
It was Jaime who spoke up from her right. "How do we know you have him?" he drawled out. Jaime was better at playing Ramsay's game than Jon was. Though as Lenora turned slightly to look at her uncle from the corner of her eye she could see how tightly his left hand was clenched around his reins. His eyes and his jaw were tight. He wanted to kill Ramsay as much as Jon.
She supposed they both wanted to kill the bastard about half as much as she did.
"Don't," she whispered, unsure if she was warning Jaime not to push him to prove anything, or begging Ramsay not to murder another Stark boy in front her.
The young man's pale eyes landed on her face, the right corner of his lips tugging up into a smirk. He was feeling in control again. Jaime's question and Lenora's whispered plea had put him back on top. "You could ask my wife," he told them, his smirk widening when Lenora visibly flinched at the word wife. "She knows full well that I am a man of my word. But -" he paused and turned toward the Karstark with a nod.
The bannerman did not take his eyes off of the group from the Wall as he reached back and untied his saddlebag before he threw it across the empty space toward them. The bag was open and as it bounced on the ground something large and black fell out of it. The object bounced on its own for a moment before it came to a rest, right side up, dark eyes staring blankly up at the sky, mouth pulled back in a snarl. Shaggydog.
That was all the proof they needed.
The wild direwolf would never have been separated from the boy. If Ramsay had Shaggydog, he had Rickon too.
He was enjoying this. She could see it in the way his pale blue eyes moved from her face to Jon's and back again, as if all of this were a joke. "Now," he drawled out, "if you wish to save -"
Lenora could not hear anymore. She would not listen to him lie about their chances of saving Rickon. She loved the little boy, but there was no way that Ramsay was ever going to let them get him back. "You're going to die tomorrow, Ramsay," she interrupted him, her voice sounding hard and cold as it cut across the open space between them.
She glanced up at him, her jaw clenched, as his gaze fell on her again. His smirk was failing him. She very deliberately reached up and ran her thumb across her face. From under her left eye, across the bridge of her nose, to her right cheek - following the exact path of the scar she had given him for a wedding gift. They were two far away from each other for her to see it now, but she knew it was there. And she knew it bothered him. He sat up straighter, his jaw clenching. She smirked and inclined her head to him, a proper lady, like Sansa. "Sleep well," she told him.
And then, as if he were no longer worth her time she pulled on the reins and turned her horse around, falling out of line and riding back toward their camp. Jon and the rest of the men could stay and trade insults with Ramsay longer if they wished. But she would not.
She heard another horse behind her, no doubt her uncle there to comfort her. She shook her head, "You shouldn't have followed me, Uncle Jaime," she told him without looking back at him. Her voice sounded bitter even to her own ears. "Ramsay will already be delighted that I ran away, I don't need him thinking that I need my uncle to come take care of me."
"Then good thing I'm not your uncle," she heard Bronn say from behind her. His voice was light and teasing and, she realized, exactly what she wanted to hear at the moment. If Jaime or Jon had followed her she would have had to deal with their cautious glances, their gentle voices, the way they would treat her like she was made of glass and would break at any moment. But Bronn, he would joke and tease her and treat just as he had before they met Ramsay.
She forced her lips into a smile. "Jaime send you to check on me?" she asked the older man as he nudged his horse forward to ride next to her rather than behind her.
Bronn shook his head as he lifted his gaze toward the sky, a smile working its way onto his weathered face. "I was just tired of looking at that fucker's smug face," he told her, bringing his gaze back to her. "I know that I'm no looker, but how could you stand seeing that every day, my lady?"
"I couldn't," she told him honestly. "It made me sick." She paused for a moment, a true smile spreading across her lips. "Though it was easier with the scar."
Bronn raised his eyebrows, "He hadn't always had that scar across his face?" the sellsword asked.
Lenora shook her head, feeling the insane urge to laugh in spite of their current circumstances. "No," she told the man. "I gave him that as a wedding gift."
Bronn let out a whistle, "And the whole time we rode north, you uncle had me believing you were some helpless maiden, locked in a tower. He never told me that you could take care of yourself."
She finally turned to look at the man riding beside her. There was a certain respect and almost pride shining in his eyes. One she had never seen before. She smiled. "I wasn't completely helpless," she told him. "But I needed the two of you."
Bronn seemed somewhat uncomfortable with her sincerity. He nodded and looked away from her, his gaze landing on the woods before them. "Do me a favor, Princess?" he asked her. Lenora nodded, silently waiting for him to tell her what the favor was. "Tomorrow during the battle, show the bastard who he was playing with and do your best to give that fucker another scar."
Lenora smiled. "Oh," she told him with a determined nod. "I'll give him more than one."
Bronn chuckled, low and deep. "That's a girl," he praised her.
Lenora turned to face forward, the smile slipping from her face the moment she had turned away from Bronn. She meant it, she would try to give Ramsay more than another scar. She was certain of it. But there were so many things that she was uncertain about when it came to the battle the next day. They didn't have the numbers, Ramsay did. Their victory was in no way certain. There was only one thing that she was truly certain of - if they lost, she would not go back to Ramsay alive.
Author's Note:
And I'm back! Thank you so much my friends for all of your patience and support! You guys are fantastic and without a doubt some of the most fantastic readers on this site. (And I truly mean that!)
Thank you so much for stopping by and reading! (And hopefully enjoying this chapter!) Thank you for adding this story to your favorites and alerts lists! But most of all, thank you for the reviews, you know how much I love them!
ZatoShadow: That is a good question. I haven't entirely decided if I am going to address the story of Jon's true parentage in this story. Call it creative liberty, but this story focuses on Lenora and Robb. It could get messy if I start playing with Jon being a Targaryen, especially considering that I have largely ignored the Targaryens for most of this story.
ZabuzasGirl: Where's the Hound? Still around. He's coming into play soon, I promise. :) Thank you for your review! I'm glad that you enjoyed the last chapter!
JanaOliver: I am ridiculously excited that your shrieked when you saw that I updated and I am selfishly hoping that you did so again when you saw this update! I'm very glad that you enjoyed the last chapter and I hope that this one continued in the tradition of not disappointing you!
guest (1): I did spoil you guys! And it was a good thing, since it turned out that I didn't update during my last week off. That's the universe, looking out for my update schedule, I suppose. I'm glad that you enjoyed the last chapter and I hope that you enjoyed this one as well!
RoseAmeliaSarahNoblePond: Aww! I'm glad that you enjoyed the last chapter. It's wonderful to hear that it was one of the best ones I had written yet because it is definitely one of my favorite ones so I'm happy to hear that you guys enjoyed it so much too! Thank you so much for your review my friend! I hope that you enjoyed this chapter (almost) as much as the last!
RHatch89: I can't wait for the Battle either! It's all finished and just waiting to be edited. And I cannot wait for you guys to read it! (And for Ramsay's death. But I finished the chapter after the battle this morning and there's a death in that chapter as well ... and I didn't realize it until after I had written it that I am now even more excited for that second death. You guys will see why shortly!)
RainbowLabs: Aww! I'm so glad that you're enjoying not only this story but my others as well! Thank you so much for stopping by and writing a review! That really means a lot. When I started this story I figured that I would catch some flack for keeping the Red Wedding in, but the way I figure it, that was going to happen no matter what, I just hoped that I could work some magic and make it a little less painful in the long run. And I hope I managed to do that! I also hope that you enjoyed this chapter!
HPuni101: You are more than welcome for the additional update. I'm so glad that you guys enjoyed it! The girls are finally safe with Jon, but this is GoT and this is me, so they won't be completely safe and happy for long! So enjoy it while you can! As for the Nigh King, I'm pretty sure I'm going to keep that out of the story for long. Maybe once it's finished and I've had some time away from Lenora and Robb (and if season 8 really inspires me) I might write a sequel and include the Night King and his army, but I'm not making any promises on that front. As for Jon and Jaime, they've got a bit of a truce right now, Jaime did help bring his sisters to the Wall, and Jon is smart enough to realize that in the grand scheme of things ... Jaime is not his enemy.
LunaEvanna Longbottom: That's a good thing to be thinking about. I just wrote a Cersei point of view this morning and it got me super excited for when Lenora and Cersei meet again. Once I've finished with BotB maybe I will start a countdown to that reunion. Thank you so much for your review!
StarkTeller: Haha! I'm glad that I caught you by surprise with the update! And you flatter me by calling it a work of art! Thank you, friend!
Season six was fantastic! Season seven was alright in comparison, but season six will always be my favorite, I think. (After season one which of course got me hooked on the show that I was convinced would never be as good as the books, but somehow turned out to be just as good as the books!)
From time to time I had people ask how Robb actually made it out of the castle, so I've had it in my head for a while that when he finally ran into Tyrion he would explain it. And of course while he was crawling out, he was thinking of Lenora! Oh the accent!
Yeah, I'm going to be really sad if the show doesn't give us at least five solid minutes of Jon and Arya reunion! We need it! But I'm worried that with the show speeding up as it reaches the end that they'll gloss over it and break my heart. We'll have to see.
As for your special request. I laughed out loud when I read that! I never like Talisa either, though I don't know if I'll make her a spy in this story. I have so much left to do that I don't know where I would fit her in!
celinesLineC-Line: I'm glad you stuck around and that you think I write well. I know for a great deal of the story I stuck tight with the show and the book. It was a comfort blanket for me, GoT is so big and intricate that I wanted to make sure that I was completely comfortable with the characters before I jumped in.
For the most part, people really seemed to enjoy it. I'm sorry you did not. But I'm glad that you stuck around and are enjoying it now. Thank you so much for your patience and faith!
sltsky96: Two updates! I was on fire! And then I lost it on my last week off. But here I am with a new chapter and the hope that I can make it up to you guys!
I'm so glad that Tyrion and Robb are everything you've ever needed! One of my favorite things is to not only take relationships that the show stops short, but also relationships that no one is really expecting and flesh them out into something that I hope is surprising and entertaining. It's good to see that it's working!
A great deal of Sansa's storyline was given to Lenora. Partially because it made sense with the addition of Lenora, (why would Bolton take Sansa when he could have a princess?) but also because I did not want to do that to Sansa, she's a child. I couldn't. As much as I love Lenora, she's a grown woman and much stronger than Sansa was so I knew that she could handle it. And I knew that once she escaped Ramsay her resolve would be to get an army and fuck shit up, but I don't know if she would have made that decision if she hadn't suffered at the hand of the Boltons first. So an evil, but a necessary one.
And I'm glad that you're enjoying Jon and Lenora's relationship. He was on the fringe at the beginning of the story, but I am a sucker for Jon Snow. And I knew that he'd play a part because of what I was going to put Lenora through. Plus, it will be easier for her to believe that Robb came back to life after she already heard it from Jon. Totally selfish plot driven relationship as well!
Gina2: Thank you so much! I'm glad you enjoyed it!
Guest1995: Aww! I even enjoy the chapters where I kill off beloved characters. I now have a complete understanding of why so many characters die in GoT. It's kind of fun! I'm glad that you enjoyed the last chapter though and I hope that you enjoyed this one as well (no one died!)
I'm excited for when Lenora and Gendry meet too! It's going to be a bit, but I guess everything is happening in "the next couple of chapters" now ... we've got less than ten left now. Woah! That's a trip!
As for your side story suggestions. I know at least one is going to make it into the story (Lenora and the Queen of Thorns) the others will probably be published after this story is finished as a separate project. I've written bits and pieces of them when I was suffering from the dreaded writer's block, but not enough to publish yet.
LokiLova: I'm so glad that you enjoyed the last chapter! Thank you so much for your review! There will be a Lenora/Robb reunion soon. (With only ten chapters left, everything is soon now!)
Maddy: I'm glad that you enjoyed the last two chapters and I hope that you enjoyed this chapter as well! No Melisandre in this one, but she will make another appearance. After BotB Lenora is pretty done taking shit from people (as you guys will see) and she becomes aware of what happened to her cousin then.
myafroatemydog: Thank you so much! I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter and I hope that you enjoyed this one too!
Gamemaster77: I love reading your reviews! Thank you so much for them! And I am so glad that you enjoyed the last chapter! I'll keep my fingers crossed that you enjoyed this one as well!
And I am super happy that you picked up on that little tidbit from Tyrion and Robb's game of questions. Robb's escape was credited as much to his stubbornness and love for Lenora as it is to Walder Frey getting wrapped up in the chaos and forgetting the entire point of his betrayal. As for their relationship, it will be strained, but you are right, Tyrion will be the first to get rid of any harsh feelings, he's a bit more understanding than Robb will ever be.
I'm so glad you enjoyed, "THE REUNION THAT WAS PROMISED" that will forever be my unofficial name for chapter 74! I'm so glad that you enjoyed it. I had to make sure to focus on Jon and Arya because I'm terrified that the show will fuck it up. Time's moving faster in the show now and they have so much to cover in like 8 episodes? That I'm afraid things like reunions between Stark ... cousins will just get lost in it all. I would not let that happen in this story.
The conversation between Jon and Lenora was terrifying to publish. I loved it, but I was worried that I wouldn't do it as much justice as it deserved. So I'm happy to hear that it hit all the right notes. As for Jon and Lenora, if Robb hadn't lived they might have become a match, but it would have taken a while. After Ramsay Lenora would have been cautious, even with someone like Jon. and Jon is so loyal to Robb that he would have seen marrying Lenora as some sort of duty. And that is not a future I wanted for either of them. So I settled on them having a very brother/sister relationship.
As for the final chapter, I suppose heartbroken and somewhat satisfied is exactly how I want you guys to feel! So I hope I deliver!
ambersnowflake: Aww! Two reviews from you! (three if you count that review from chapter fifteen when you decided that you hated Robb Stark ... I'm glad you don't still hate him!) Thank you so much for reading this story. And thank you so much more for your reviews! I loved them!
Your cuss filled review made me so happy! And if this were an actual book that got published I would definitely use that review as one of those "blurbs" they put on the back to make people read the book, you know?
I'm so glad that you understand why I stuck close to the canon. I love Lenora, but any changes she makes to the story are going to be subtle. She's not going to stop any of the major plot points, but that at the end, when you step back and look at it as a whole you realize that she did change things, one person at a time.
And that statement, "You understood that Lenora herself would finally decide her own fate, after everything. Even if Robb is to return, her road is now set." Fuck! YOU GET IT! And I love that! I've said since the beginning that this story was very much a "the princess saves herself" story and now you guys get to see where I've been leading this story the whole time!
And I am so glad you're enjoying it.
As for Jon being legitimized? I finished that conversation this morning. So you will see it very soon!
Bik: Thank you so much for your review! I hope you enjoyed this chapter!
GoldenKeeper2567: You're welcome! I am so glad that you enjoyed this story and that it brought you all the emotions that I have been hoping to bring you guys! And thank you for taking the time to tell me! I hope that you continue to enjoy this story!
Guest (2): I really love when my readers cuss in their reviews because they can't find the words to express how much they like it! Thank you so much for your review! And you're welcome!
WildThing: Aww! Thank you so much for your review! I'm glad that you thought the last chapter was amazing and I hope that you enjoyed this one as well. As for my day job? No, I'm not a writer or a publisher and I don't get paid to write. :) But it is very encouraging to hear that I write well enough that you think I do!
chibichibi98: I'm glad that you liked the first reunion and I can't wait for you to read about the others. As to it happening before the BotB ... you will have to see.
Anna B: Your review was like a book! And I loved it! Thank you so much for not only taking the time to read this story, but then writing that massive review! It really made my day! And I love that you enjoy the multiple points of view. I got that idea from the books. I loved how GRRM managed to puzzle all of these characters together to form a cohesive story that could make you sympathize with all the characters, even the ones you didn't particularly want to. And I knew when I sat down to write this story that I wanted to do that too.
Besides, there are so many important events that shaped Lenora's story that began with someone else. I wanted to make sure that I was able to do justice to the complex, interconnected world that is GoT and I am so glad to read that I am somewhat doing that!
I wish I could respond to everything in your review, but it was just so big that I can't do it justice here. Just know that I read every word and I appreciated all of it! (Especially when you picked up on the fact that Lenora says just so just like Cinderella ... it was a little easter egg that I have been hoping people would pick up on!)
Thank you so much for your review! I hope that you enjoyed this chapter as well!
FoxFables: Thank you so much for your review! I'm so glad that you like the story! And believe me, I can't wait for all the reunions too! I'm rather impatient about it!
Long live the Queen! yes!
That's all I've got for now, my friends. Thank you so much!
Until next time,
Chloe Jane.