Part 2
Kings and Queens

Chapter 12

Jon shook his head and looked out into the snow. Snow, he snorted. We are the same, Nysa's voice was heard as the wind blew around him. In a way they were, he thought as he closed his eyes. The wind howled, louder than a wolf in the night. He made a vow.

I will wed and you will come to serve as my personal guard. That is final. No, he made a final decision. That decision was to serve as a Night's Watch.

I do not want you to go. But it was not her decision to make, it was his.

I wanted you to be the first to know. I wanted your approval. You truly mean a lot to me, Nysa. I may be going somewhere that I will gain many brothers but they will not replace my sisters here, and that includes you.

Nothing could replace her and now she was in danger. Lord Stark - his father - was gone. Robb would go to defend House Stark, his father and get his sisters back. But there was also Nysa in King's Landing. She needed to be saved as well. They couldn't just let her stay there. They couldn't.

You don't understand what you be giving up. His Uncle Benjen tried to get him to see reason, that it was too soon that he was taking this oath. He had protested, saying that he did not care about family or having children. You might. If you know what it meant.

You must make that choice yourself, Maester Aemon's words came to him then, and live with it for the rest of your days.

In the meantime, you best say your goodbyes to your sister, his father had gestured towards Nysa as they said their farewells. She will need you one day.

She needed him now.

It was the dead of the night. He knew the guards weren't their best here at Castle Black. He knew that he could exit without being heard. The only problem was that his friend - his first friend that he had made here was watching the door to his chambers. Jon shook his head and began walking down the steps. Sam hurried over towards him. When they finally met in the yard, Jon did his best not to look at Sam. Sam stared at him, demanding that he look at him. Jon said nothing and continued to prepare a horse, placing a saddle, some furs and his sword on the mount.

"You've taken a vow," Sam said finally as Jon finished his task.

"Get out of my way, Sam," Jon pushed past him.

Sam was reluctant though. "They'll put out word. They'll send out ravens," he protested "People will come after you. Do you know what happens to deserters?"

He turned around to face his friend, staring him down. "Better than you do," Jon answered him.

"What are you going to do?"

Jon turned back to the horse with confidence. "Find my brother and put a sword through King Joffrey's throat." He climbed onto the horse and looked down as Sam stepped in front of him.

"You can't leave us now! We need you here."

"Move," Jon barked at him.

Sam whimpered a bit but stood tall. "I won't let you go."

"Move!"

"No," Sam shouted.

Jon urged his horse forward, brushing Sam out of his way. He kicked the horse to run at an urgent pace. Nysa needed him. His brother needed him. He turned his head and saw Ghost running closely behind him.

"Lord Robb," Lord Karstark tried to reach for him but he pushed past all his Lords and walked out of the tower.

He hurried through the yard, past the wall and beyond the camp grounds. Robb did not know where he was going, only that he wanted to go somewhere - anywhere but back there where news of his father's death had come crashing down on him.

This is the North, my son. You will become Lord of not just Winterfell but the entire North one day. They will look to you.

Robb couldn't do it now. He just couldn't. He wanted his father back. He wanted him back here. Robb thought about everything that he was fighting for, the reason why he was going South. And now one of those reasons was gone. He had to be a man, a Lord in front of the others but he could not do it - not without his father to guide him. He needed his father.

I remember the first time I held you in my arms, that was the first time I felt like a man.

Robb stumbled through the woods until he found a clearing and ran towards it. Joffrey - that royal pain in the ass - had promised him mercy. Tywin Lannister marched on his mother's homelands. Cersei Lannister held his sisters captive. Jamie Lannister had killed dozens of his men - men loyal to his father. One of them hurt Bran, he took out his sword. One of them ordered that his father be killed, he swung it at a nearby tree. Another one of them fought with his father in King's Landing, stabbed him in the leg, and had Winterfell guards put to death. Someone ordered the assassination on his younger brother's life. He thought about Arya and Sansa as well. The Queen ordered that Lady be put to death - the direwolf of her soon to be good-daughter.

You may look like a Tully but inside you are all Stark, my son.

He imagined every Lannister, every royal guard, every one that had harmed his family. He welcomed them into their home, his father had welcomed them into their home. His father would never do anything wrong against them unless there was great reason. And now Robb had a definite reason. He was going there to protect his mother's Riverlands, get his family back. And now he had to avenge them.

Starks protect their family and guide those under their care.

The tears began to sting his eyes as he thought of life without his father, becoming a Lord without his father, fighting without his father. He had a reason to fight now. He'd kill them all. Kill them for crippling his brother, murdering his father, endangering his sisters, harming Nysa.

Do all of that and you have nothing to fear, Robb.

"Robb," his father's voice disappeared and was replaced with another. "Robb!"

He was pulled away from his thoughts, his father disappearing even farther away as he looked with blurry eyes to see who the intruder was. It was none other than his mother. From the look on her face, she must have heard the news as well. He was breathing heavily, the tears falling freely. His hand was sore but he didn't care.

"You've ruined your sword," she told him.

Robb dropped it then and ambled towards his mother, stumbling here and there until she caught him in her arms. "I'll kill them all," he declared as she held him close, "every one of them. I'll kill them all," he began to sob as his mother ran her hand through his hair.

"My boy," she quieted him gently. "They have your sisters," she reminded him, "we have to get the girls back."

The girls, he thought about them again. Did the Lannisters make them watch? Where was Sansa and Arya in all this? Where was Nysa?

"And then," his mother pushed him back slightly and looked into his eyes with a serious, fixed expression, "we will kill them all."

Jory kept the party riding hard and fast for the first day. Every time Wyl or Cayn would slow down because their horses were carrying more than just them, Jory and Desmond would take over. Nysa refused to speak to her brother - still furious that nothing was done about Lord Stark's execution. Wyl reminded her that they were a party of ten - eight guards and two young women, one of them still a child. What were they supposed to do? They'd get killed in the process themselves. She thought about the arrow she shot - and missed. Joffrey was still alive. He was still alive! She shouldn't have rejoiced in murdering a young boy. But for some reason, she would have excused her actions if it were Joffrey.

Nysa slapped Jory's hand away from her face, causing her brother to seethe. "There was nothing that could be done," he shouted, "now get on the horse."

"I'm not riding with you!"

"Then you can walk," he responded before climbing back onto his horse and leading it away from her.

Another horse came by then and Porther offered her his hand. "Come on, my lady," he urged, "Its a long way back to Winterfell."

Nysa snorted before taking Porther's hand and pulling herself up onto the horse and sliding behind him. Alyn strode up towards the two of them and said he would carry her next before they hurried after Jory. The second time that they stopped, Nysa flew into a fury again. She shouted at her brother for being disloyal and faithless. Alyn tried to get her onto his horse but it was no use - not when she was so upset.

"Calm down," Jory tried to hold her but she thrashed around in his arms.

"Don't touch me," she shouted, trying to push her brother away. "Don't touch me," she protested again and this time her brother screamed in agony, falling back down.

Nysa stopped then and went to approach her brother but he shook his head. This had happened twice before. She would disappear into a state of anger that it hurt everyone around her. Guiltily, she looked down. Jory saw Ronin walk towards his sister and dump a bucket of water onto her. She gasped and shook her head, wiping the water away from her face as a couple of them chuckled. It was the only way to get her to cool down. Jory held his arm and waddled away until Porther came and suggested to rub mud on his arm where his sister had touched him.

"That better," Porther asked as Jory nodded.

"I think we've rode enough for today," Wyl walked towards them, sensing the scene. "Perhaps if you see to your sister's emotional state, she won't be a problem as the journey continues." Jory nodded and looked up to see Nysa taking off her cloak and ringing some of the excess water out. "We're all upset about Lord Stark's death. We can't go on not acknowledging that it didn't happen."

"Aye," Jory agreed. "Wyl, take Cayn with you," he instructed, "go and get some rabbit or pheasant to eat. Porther, go and get the fire ready."

"Is it wise to make a fire," asked Porther. "We do have bread and cheese. And the knight has given us enough furs to keep warm. This isn't the North."

"We build a fire," Jory looked over to Arya, "we keep the little Lady safe and well-fed. She'll need meat in her system - especially after today." The guards nodded and went to do as instructed. He saw Nysa who had just laid out a fur for her and Arya. The young girl hadn't shed a tear either. Jory ambled over and saw a panicked look on his sister's face. "I'm fine," he gritted out, "and you," he nodded towards Arya, "did you want to talk about..."

"They just stood there," Arya commented with a far-off look.

"There wasn't much we could..."

"Not you," she looked at him before casting her eyes down again, "Cersei, Littlefinger, the Hound," she named them.

"You didn't see it happen though," Jory asked, "right?"

Arya shook her head slightly. "Cayn hid my face. When we were riding away, I looked back and I saw Ser Preston carry Sansa away."

"I saw that too," Nysa said softly.

"But the rest of them," she shook her head, "they all just stood there."

"My lady," Jory began.

"They stood there like it did not bother them, like they did not care."

"Arya," Nysa reached out for her shoulder.

"If I ever see them again, I'll run them through with Needle," Arya spat out before turning away, muttering something about finding wood for the fire.

"Let her go," Jory told Nysa. She turned to look at her brother. "The other guards are around here, Nysa. She'll be fine. You and I need to talk."

"I'm sorry about your arm," she said quickly and Jory sighed. "I can make something to heal it," she reached for him but he took a step back and shook his head.

"It feels fine," Jory said before looking down at his arm. "My tunic took most of it. My skin just felt a bit warm..."

"A bit warm," his sister snorted.

"Truly Nysa," he assured her, taking a step closer and daring to run his fingers down her cheek, "I'm alright."

He gestured for her to sit on a nearby log. Once they were settled, his eyes scanned the woods around them, watching as the men prepared to set up for the night. He didn't like the idea of his sister or the young Arya being out here - in the open and unprotected. Yes, there were eight guards but he still did not like it. There was a sense of uneasiness - and yes, they still had not grieved the loss of their Lord. Jory was still trying to cope with the loss of the other guards.

"I was so scared," his sister started instead. "I still am. I can't imagine a world without Lord Stark in it," she shook her head. "What are we to do without him? Where are we to go? How will we survive? What about Lady Catelyn or Robb or Jon?"

"Aye, this affects everyone," Jory said quietly, not really knowing how to respond just yet.

"I try to think that we're riding back home to Winterfell and that he'll be there, scolding Robb and Jon about something," a sad smile fell on her face. "I can picture him reprimanding the three of us for sneaking out of Winterfell."

"You three did that too often," Jory shook his head, "if anything it's my guards who should be reprimanded for not being more watchful."

Nysa let out a small laugh then. "I remember the time that you had gone with Lord Stark to fight against the Ironborn," she shook her head. "I had been worrying about Lady Stark since she had just birthed Arya. I told Lord Stark that I didn't trust the guards he was leaving behind. I didn't mean to get them in trouble, either. But I remember that he knelt in front of me," Nysa described, "and told me that if they misbehaved, then I could set them aright," she laughed again. "Wyl and Alyn were on their best behavior after they heard that."

"Are you sure that wasn't your doing instead of Lord Stark's," he teased.

"I am innocent as a lamb, I have no idea what you're talking about," she lifted her chin in defiance as Jory broke out into laughter.

"Sure you are," he shook his head and turned to look at Porther who got the fire started. "Well, even if you weren't innocent, Lord Stark allowed you to get away with anything. It was as though you were Captain of the guards and I was just some simple maid."

"Is that what you think of me," she exclaimed in shock, "I'm just some simple maid," she pushed Jory lightly causing they two of them to laugh. "But you are right," she said once they both calmed down, "Lord Stark hardly ever punished me and if he did it was a simple reprimand."

"And yet that did the trick," Jory nodded.

"Lord Stark was kind and he did not belittle me, or Robb, or Jon," she sighed. "He treated everyone fairly. He upheld principles that surpassed any law. I never thought that he was cruel or impatient with me or anyone of his children. I only saw a devoted husband, a caring father and a just Lord," Nysa laughed lightly. "I didn't feel as though I were a bastard while in his care. He treated me as though I were his... his niece," she stumbled over the word and Jory turned to her.

"You can say it," he encouraged, "because I would say it, too. You forget that I was fourteen, no," he shook his head, "thirteen when father died. Yes, I had our Uncle. But Lord Stark helped me, trained me, supported me and guided me when it was time to raise you," he took her hand in his. "I thought of him as a father also."

Nysa turned her head away and wiped her face with her other hand.

"Everyone doted on you and that was because of Lord and Lady Stark," Jory smiled. "I don't know what I'd do unless they were there. Lady Stark taught you everything proper and lady-like. Lord Stark introduced you to all the Houses in the North. He made you stand next to his children, made you feel like you belonged. It was just," Jory nodded, "it was just the way Lord Stark ruled his House and the North. He was just."

"He was," she whispered. "I was never left wanting. What Lord and Lady does that for another child, especially if that one is a bastard?"

"I've never heard you refer to yourself as a bastard this much before."

"It never concerned me as much," she shrugged, "until others pointed it out."

Jory looked away from her, knowing what she was referring to. "I remember the Kingslayer asking me once why you sat at the table with the Stark children, why you could sit on the dais with the other nobles, why you were introduced as Lady Nysa. And I remember telling him, because Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn raised you to be a Lady. In truth, I wanted to say that you were spoiled from birth." His sister narrowed her eyes at him. "Even you have to admit that you were a bit spoiled - not the same as Joffrey because as privileged as you were you didn't lord it over others." Her face paled. "That was a bad comparison."

"A horrible comparison," she stuck out her tongue.

"I know you wanted me to go back," he said suddenly. "I know that you want to go back. Believe me, a part of me wants to ride my horse back to King's Landing and demand that they allow House Stark justice. And if not, then I'd show that King what true justice is," Jory growled. "Lord Stark was more than just a Lord to me, Nysa. He was like my father, too. I weep for him. I will mourn for him." Their eyes met, both starting to water with tears. "Just because I did nothing back there, doesn't mean that I will ever forget everything that he has ever done for me or you. I owe him my life, so do you."

"I just don't like that we're running away..."

"We are protecting Arya," Jory shook his head. "We are going to get her back North, back to her brother and mother."

"We failed Sansa..."

"We did not fail her. Is that why you've been so unforgiving?" Nysa shook her head and looked away. "Nysa," his hold on her hand tightened. "We did all that we could to get her out. You shot an arrow at a Kingsguard - two members of the Kingsguard. Granted the second time you were aiming for the King," he added with some humor, "but you risked a lot to save her, including your own life."

"I still..."

"I won't have you believing that you failed her, Nysa." Jory pulled his sister to rest her head on his shoulder as she began to sob. "We are still a company of eight men, imagine what we could do with eight hundred or eight thousand," he rubbed her back. "We need to regroup, we need to get to Lady Catelyn. And even though Sansa is there, Ser Preston said that he would do his best to look after her. He's helped us this far, we need to trust that he will live up to his word."

Nysa buried her face into his shoulder and nodded. "He will," she mumbled.

"Would you tell me why he's been so accommodating for us?"

She sighed deeply before whispering, "he thought I was his daughter."

"Jory," Wyl came by then with a small smile on his face. Jory held his sister tightly to him and nodded. "We were able to catch a small boar."

The men worked quickly to skin their kill and dispose of the insides. Jory put some slabs of meat on the side for Nysa to salt and wrap to preserve it for the journey. He instructed the men then that they would keep close to the Kingsroad but not travel on it. They'd stop at an Inn in the Riverlands. As of right now, Jory didn't trust anyone since they were still located in the Crownlands. All the guards agreed that that was the safest option.

"We'll have to worry about the Lannister army raiding in the Riverlands," Desmond added.

"A small group of men may be of no consequence to them," Jory disagreed, "we can get by undetected."

"Ser Jamie is with them. If he recognizes any of us," Wyl began.

"The main thing is that the young Lady and my sister get back safely." Jory looked around at the group and know that any one of them would sacrifice themselves for both Lady Arya and his sister. "Lord Stark sent Harwin out with Ser Beric to stop them. Perhaps they've been pushed back, we need to think about that. There is word that young Lord Robb has been leading some Northmen down. They could be in the Riverlands as we speak," Jory explained. "If we can get to them then, we stand a chance."

Cayn nodded and threw the last piece of pork into his mouth. "If anything happens to me..."

"It won't," Jory said in a firm tone.

"There were fifty of us, now there are less than ten," he replied. "If something happens to me, I want whoever goes back to Winterfell to tell my son that I love him. Tell him that I am proud of him and to look after his mother when Winter comes."

"You can tell him yourself," Jory responded to Cayn, "because we're all going back home."

Jory looked over at Nysa to see her talking quietly with Arya. They had been tying up the last sack of meat, saving it for their journey. He would have to remember to thank Ser Preston one day - if they ever met again - for giving them enough supplies for their journey. He knew the men could survive, but Nysa and Arya might be a little needy. The Inn at the Crossroads was the best place he figured. They could rest in a bed, have a warm bath and real meal.

In the middle of the night, he heard light whimpering and wondered if that was his sister. But as he looked over towards where she slept, Arya was tucked into Nysa's side, her shoulders wracking with grief.

"I'm going to kill him, one day," a little girl's voice could be heard.

"I know," his sister replied.

"I mean it, Nysa. All of them," he saw Arya bury her head into Nysa's arm and sniff back her tears, "I'm going to kill all of them!"

"The Stark boy appears to be less green than we hoped," Tyrion commented.

"I hear his wolf killed a dozen men," Lord Crakehall stated, "and about as much horses."

"Is it true," Lord Lefford began, "about Stannis and Renly?"

"Both Baratheon brothers have taken up against us," Ser Kevan replied. "Jamie captured, his army scattered. It's a catastrophe. Perhaps we should sue for peace," he suggested to his brother.

Tyrion shook his head and threw his cup down on the floor. Every head, including his father's, turned to look at him. "There's your peace," he pointed to the floor. "Joffrey saw to that when he decided to remove Ned Stark's head. You'll have an easier time drinking out of that cup than you will bringing Robb Stark to the table now."

Tyrion looked around at the other Lords, his Uncle deep in thought.

"He's winning," Tyrion added, "in case you hadn't noticed."

"I'm told we still have his sisters," Ser Kevan replied.

"The first order of business is ransoming Ser Jamie," Lord Crakehall argued.

"No truces, we can't afford to look weak," argued Lord Brax, "we must march on them at once!"

"First, we must return to Casterly Rock," Ser Kevan shook his head.

Tyrion watched as the Lords continued to argue among themselves. It was then that his father's voice was heard above everyone else present.

"They have my son!" Tywin turned to look at all his Lords and dismissed them. "Get out all of you," he motioned before his eyes settled on Tyrion, "not you."

Tyrion walked to where his father was, joining him on the front side of the table. Tywin surprised him by pouring a healthy measure of wine into his cup. Tywin shocked his son further when he began talking.

"You were right," he confessed as Tyrion's eyes narrowed, "about Eddard Stark," his father finished.

Tyrion nodded and drank some of his wine.

"If he were alive, we could've used him to broker a peace with Winterfell and Riverrun." Tywin sighed heavily. "Which would have given us more time to deal with Robert's brothers," he looked away and contemplated it. "But now," he shook his head, turning back to Tyrion, "madness, madness and stupidity." Tywin watched his son carefully. "I always thought you were a stunted fool. Perhaps I was wrong."

"Half wrong," Tyrion chuckled nervously. "I'm new to strategy but unless we want to be surrounded by three armies it appears we can't stay here."

Tywin sighed. "No one will stay here. Ser Gregor will head out with five hundred riders and set the Riverlands on fire from Gods Eye to the Red Fork. The rest of us will regroup at Harrenhall."

Tyrion nodded, liking the sound of that plan.

"And you will go to King's Landing."

For a moment, he wondered if there was someone else in the tent that his father was addressing. "And do what?"

"Rule," Tywin answered with a twitch of his lips. Tyrion stared at his father as though he had grown two heads. "You will serve as Hand of the King in my stead. You'll bring that boy king to heel, and his mother too," Tywin advised his son, "if needs be."

It was obvious that Cersei had done nothing to stop this madness and stupidity. His two eldest children, the ones whom he often considered his pride and joy - true Lannisters - had somehow failed him. He had to make sure that this son would do the right thing.

"Your brother and sister had trouble with a maiden," Tywin began, "a maiden belonging to Ned Stark's household."

Tyrion nodded. "Ah yes, the girl."

"You've met her," Tywin raised an eyebrow at his son.

He drank his cup and went to reach for the pitcher again but Tywin was quick to refill his son's cup. "She is a bastard from the North. Her mother is from the South. It's the reason why she went with Ned Stark, to find her family and serve as Sansa's lady-in-waiting when she becomes Queen." Tywin grunted in acknowledgement. "What trouble has there been?"

"She shot an arrow at your brother."

"And lived to tell the tale," Tyrion raised his cup before drinking from it.

"I want you to bring control to the Capital," Tywin told his son. "I don't want to hear any more of this nonsense. Reign in the lions before they run wild," he instructed. "And if you get so much as a whiff of treason from any of the rest," Tywin said as Tyrion tilted his head. "Baelish, Varys, Pycelle..."

"Heads, spikes, walls," Tyrion answered in understanding. "Why not my uncle," he blinked his eyes in shock. "Why not anyone? Why me?"

"You're my son."

"We must pledge fealty to Renly and move South to join our forces with his," Ser Wylis said.

"Renly is not the King," Robb spoke out.

"You cannot mean to yield to Joffrey, my Lord," Ser Wylis turned to him. "He put your father to death."

"That doesn't make Renly the King. He's Robert's youngest brother," he announced loudly turning to the rest of his Lords. His, he thought as a few of them nodded. "Bran can't be Lord of Winterfell before me, Renly can't be King before Stannis."

"Do you mean to declare us for Stannis," questioned Lord Hornwood.

"Stannis is not right," someone shouted and they began to murmur.

"My Lords," the Greatjon stood up, "my Lords," he bellowed as everyone quieted down. "Here is what I say to these two Kings," and he spat on the ground. A few of them lifted their cups and cheered. "Renly Baratheon is nothing to me, nor Stannis either," he looked around the camp as the Lords agreed with him. "Why should they rule over me and mine from some flowery seat in the South?"

Robb paused for a moment and wondered what the Greatjon was speaking of. Did he mean to ride against every claim to the Iron Throne? Surely not, the Greatjon was smarter than that.

"What do they know of the Wall or Wolfswood," asked Lord Umber.

"Nothing," Lord Glover agreed with him.

"Even their Gods are wrong," he chuckled.

Robb licked his lips and looked down, still in confusion as to who the Greatjon was encouraging them towards.

"Why," he said slowly, "shouldn't we rule ourselves again," he questioned looking around as the laughing died down. "It was the dragons we bowed to, and now the dragons are dead. There," he pulled out his sword and gestured towards Robb, "sits the only King I mean to bend my knee to," he looked at Robb. "The King in the North!"

Robb was shocked. He sat there as Lord Umber - a man he had looked up to, one who his father trusted - had bent his knee, declaring Robb to be not just his Lord, but his King. He had gone from being their Lord to becoming their King.

He slowly stood up and nodded to the Greatjon.

"I'll have peace on those terms," Harrion Karstark stood up immediately. "They can keep their red castle and their iron chair too," he took out his sword and walked to face Robb in the front. "To the King in the North!" It was not long until Eddard and Torrhen did the same and bowed their heads to him.

"Am I your brother," Theon asked as Robb turned his head away from House Karstark, "now and always?"

"Now and always," Robb answered.

Theon walked towards the rest of them, taking out his sword and kneeling before Robb. "My sword is yours, in victory and defeat. From this day until my last day," Theon declared.

"The King in the North," Lord Umber shouted.

And one by one, all the Northern Lords withdrew their swords and knelt before their new King. Robb's heart began to beat faster as he looked back at his mother, the only person who was sitting down while everyone else had their heads bowed to him.

This is the North, my son. You will become Lord of not just Winterfell but the entire North one day. They will look to you.

"King in the North! King in the North! King in the North!"

Nysa felt a hand cover her mouth and immediately she tossed and turned, reaching for her brother's dagger. Jory pressed against her harder and made a motion for her to be quiet. When he motioned behind him, Nysa noticed that a few of the men were gone.

"There's a group of men approaching," Jory said quietly.

"I thought we were too far in from the Kingsroad for anyone to notice us," she whispered.

"We are," he assured her.

Nysa shook Arya awake and after some grumbling, Arya was prepared to grab her sword and fight anything that was to come out from the bushes. Nysa pushed her behind and raised her bow as Jory told them to stay put. Cayn and Desmond took out their swords and dropped into a stance in front of them. Her heart was beating fast. She didn't think they'd send a search party after them so quickly. A branch snapping shifted their attention to the left.

A breath of relief fell from her lips when she saw that Wyl was the first to appear. He was unharmed and well, causing Nysa to lower her bow. She waited until she saw the other guards appear. After them, came a man dressed in black. She remembered seeing him from King's Landing.

"It's a member of the Night's Watch," Wyl nodded his head towards him.

Jory nodded and went to shake his hand.

"You're a long way from where you're heading," the Night's Watch told them. "Well if it isn't the boy," he looked past Jory and straight at Arya."

"I'm not a boy," Arya narrowed her eyes at him.

"You are heading North, am I right?"

"We are, friend," Jory told him.

"Yoren," he replied. "Same as us," Yoren nodded before glancing around. "I'm assuming that your little party is the reason why I had trouble leaving King's Landing," his eyes caught Nysa's and the bow around her shoulders, "and the reason why King Joffrey doesn't leave the Keep without his Kingsguard around him."

"He deserved it," Nysa held her head high.

"Aye, that he did," Yoren chuckled again. "That only means that the gold on your head," he drew his dagger and pointed to her with it, "has tripled. You're worth a pretty price, more than this lot I got following me."

"Joffrey would have to get through all of us first," Alyn drew his sword and Yoren chuckled as they all began to do it, again.

"I'm not turning you in," he shook his head, "I have no interest in doing so. I respect House Stark, I always have. Lord Stark treated us kindly, the men of the Night's Watch. There's nothing more honorable than to serve as a Night's Watch in the eyes of House Stark."

"You protect us, protect the entire Realm," Arya stated.

"See," he gestured to Arya, "that is why I like you, why I'd come here and offer for you to journey with us."

"Why should we journey with you," asked Wyl.

"Strength in numbers," Yoren answered, "and with the King looking for a party travelling North, they'd question all of you. I, on the other hand, I'm handling duties belonging to the Night's Watch."

"There's a reason for him to be headed North," Jory nodded in agreement as he thought the situation over, "we would be able to travel on the Kingsroad - which would save us time. And our main concern is getting back to Winterfell."

"So, we're in agreement," Yoren looked around as the guards slowly nodded and put their swords back. When they had all nodded, Yoren grabbed Arya by her shoulder and slashed his dagger through her hair.

"Stop," Nysa shouted.

"Trust me, boy," Yoren gritted out.

"I'm not a boy," Arya protested.

"What are you doing," Nysa screamed.

"Do you want to live? You're a boy then. You want to go back to the North, you best cut the other one, too," Yoren instructed.

Nysa grabbed her braid and shook her head.

"We have a long way to travel and in bad company. I have 20 men. Lord Stark let me choose from the dungeon. Half would turn you all over to the King as quick for a pardon and gold," Yoren told them as he sliced another strand of Arya's hair off her head. "And the Lannisters have much of it."

"Surely they wouldn't," Nysa ran her fingers through the ends of her hair.

Yoren chuckled and shook his head. "The other half would do the same, only they'd rape you first."

"We wouldn't allow it," Jory protested.

"Aye, you'd do your best to protect your sister and the little lady," Yoren continued his work. "But it would end with a couple of you being dead. I can't watch you all the time. And imagine what would happen if we're spotted on the road," he turned to Jory.

"We're traveling with the Night's Watch," Jory shook his head, "they wouldn't question..."

"They wouldn't question why two young women are with us," Yoren snorted before throwing a blade in Jory's direction. "Cut her hair! She's a boy now."

Nysa took a step back and shook her head at her brother. "He's right," Jory argued. "If they see two young women, especially you. They'll know. You shot an arrow at the King. They want your head. We have been there for months; the guards know how you look. We can easily hide among the men," he gestured to everyone who began to strip off their clothes with Stark colors. "But if they see you..."

"Must I," Nysa's lip began to tremble.

"It's the only way."

"Just do it, Nysa." She turned to see Arya's hair had been cut, Yoren trying to fluff it around. Arya caught her eyes, "We wouldn't want to draw attention. Jory and Yoren are right, they'll raise questions if they see a girl in the Night Watch's company."

"First," Robb began, "your family must release my sisters and the young lady, Nysa. Her Uncle wishes for to come home," he nodded to Ser Rodrik. "Second, my father's bones must be returned to us so that he may rest next to his brother and his sister in the crypts at Winterfell. The remains of all those who have died in his service must also be returned. Their families can honor them with proper funerals," he looked over to one of the guards from Winterfell before turning back.

"An honorable request, your Grace," Alton Lannister nodded.

"Third," his tone turned serious, "Joffrey and the Queen regent must renounce all claim of dominion over the North. From this time to the end of time, we are a free and independent Kingdom."

"King in the North," Ser Rodrik nodded in approval.

"King in the North," Lord Karstark agreed as the rest of them.

"Neither Joffrey nor any of his men shall set foot in our lands again," Robb declared. "If he disregards this command, then he shall suffer the same fate as my father. Only," Robb sneered, "I don't need a servant to do my beheading for me."

Alton tried not to look afraid. "These are, your Grace..."

Robb stood up, making himself taller than he could appear. "These are my terms. If the Queen regent and her son meet them, I'll give them peace. If not," he paused, "I will litter the South with Lannister dead."

"King Joffrey is a Baratheon," Alton corrected, "your Grace."

"Oh, is he," Robb smiled lightly. "You'll ride at daybreak, Ser Alton." The terms were handed to him. "That will be all for tonight."

Alton was led away by Torrhen - back to where he was being held until he would be sent to King's Landing. Robb turned away from the table as all his Lords began to exit the tent. He stared out among the men, he needed the Queen to agree to these terms. He had lost a lot of Northmen as it was. He didn't need any more lost on his account.

"A word, your Grace," Theon asked as he stepped beside him.

"You don't have to call me your Grace when no one's around," Robb looked at his childhood friend.

"It's not so bad," Theon laughed, "once you get used to it."

"I'm glad someone has gotten used to it."

"Lannisters are going to reject your terms, you know?"

"Of course they are," Robb nodded.

"You can fight them in the field as long as you like," Theon began, "We won't beat them until you take King's Landing. We can't take King's Landing unless we have ships," Theon encouraged as Robb turned to him slightly. "My father has ships and men who know how to sail them."

"Men who've fought my father," Robb reminded him.

"Then fought King Robert to free themselves from the South, just like you're doing now," Theon pointed out.

Robb turned away and looked back out at the men once more. "He wouldn't..."

"I'm his only living son. He'll listen to me," Theon replied, "I know he will. I'm not a Stark, I know that," he said causing Robb to sigh. "But your father raised me to be an honorable man. We can avenge him together."

Robb nodded and placed a hand on Theon's shoulder. "You ride out in the morning."