Chapter 15

"Is there something you wish to say Torrhen," Robb asked as the some of the Lords began to depart. The only ones left in the tent now were his Kingsguard and his mother, Lord Karstark and Lord Umber.

"It is nothing, your Grace."

Robb licked his lips and sighed heavily. "I know something is on your mind. Now you are part of my personal guard, I will not ignore your counsel."

"Ramsay Snow cannot be trusted," Torrhen said, "and neither can his father."

Robb turned to his mother. "Explain," he gestured to Torrhen.

Torrhen took a step forward, standing in front of the table, his father looking earnestly at him. "Five, no," he started again, "six years ago a young maiden whom you grew up with was insulted at the Dreadfort. Now, I understand that she may be a low-born girl," Torrhen said, speaking of Nysa, "but she grew up with you. She sat down at your table, lived in Winterfell's walls, her brother, father and Uncle have given their lives for House Stark." Torrhen stepped closer as if to emphasize his point. "Nysa would not trust Ramsay with this and you know it."

The King of the North let out a heavy sigh. "There were no other options but to send..."

"He cannot be controlled," Torrhen raised his voice. "Do you know what he did to Nysa that day at the Dreadfort? Do you know why Jon Snow came close to beating him to death the next morning when he strolled in through hall, acting as though nothing happened," Torrhen narrowed his eyes. "I wouldn't trust House Bolton to get this done for you."

"Then what would you have me do?"

"Send me back with some men, your Grace," Torrhen volunteered.

"Torr," his father stood but Torrhen held up his hand.

"Lord Bolton walks back to our camp, without my brother, without Lord Glover, or Ser Wylis! Two thousand of your men gone and he comes back as though nothing happened - the same as his son. I will not stand by idly and..."

"You are not just standing by," Robb stood up as well. He sighed and looked towards his mother. "I understand that everyone wants to go back North and get rid of the Greyjoy presence."

"This isn't the first time they've revolted against a King," Daryn began. "My father is loss, too. I should be going North to help defend our home. I'll go with Torrhen," he stood up, "take some of my men and crush this Greyjoy rebellion just as our fathers once did with your father," he nodded to Robb.

"To be honest," Robb looked around at all of them. "I rather have you here with me. You are right," he nodded to Torrhen. "There is no one who held more dislike for Ramsay than Nysa."

"What happened to Lady Nysa," asked Ser Perwyn.

Robb shook his head slightly. "I never knew what happened that day. I don't even think that my father or mother knows what happened," Robb turned to his mother who still sat sadly pondering the recent events. "But I know that things with Ramsay aren't right. Nysa was always treated differently than Ramsay. She was not hidden from the other Lords as Ramsay had been."

"I taught her to be a Lady," Lady Catelyn spoke up before looking away.

"My father saw to that," Robb looked at Ser Perwyn who nodded.

"Lord Stark was a kind and respectable man," the Lady knight, Brienne added with a slight bow.

"He was," Robb agreed looking back at the others who did not know Nysa. "Nysa was the bastard daughter of a knight who fought for House Stark and died. He didn't have to take her in but he did, brought her back to Winterfell and no one said anything about it," he made sure Ser Perwyn understood, "that is until we went to the Dreadfort and we met Ramsay," he nodded to Torrhen. "I can't even recall what triggered the altercation, only that there was animosity between the two of them from the beginning."

"She got to eat the table with everyone else," Eddard Karstark spoke up, "learn from the Maesters of our Houses."

"She visited with us at Last Hearth," Smalljon began, "as though she were of noble-birth."

"I remember after that visit, she seemed even more determined to learn the sword or the bow," Lady Dacey added. "She wanted to kill Ramsay Snow, you could see it in her eyes," she turned to Ser Perwyn. "My sisters and I helped her learn to use a few fighting techniques."

"I remember Harrion helping her with the sword," Eddard added, "he made her promise that she wouldn't use them on Ramsay though," he added which got a chuckle from many in the tent. "That was the day she brought her Valyrian steel sword with her," he glanced at Torrhen.

"If this Ramsay is questionable, then why send him," Patrek began.

"Because of who he is," Robb answered.

"Your grace..."

"I want Theon to suffer, the same as my brothers are no doubt suffering," Robb began. "I don't want his men to be handled with care. I want them to burn. They murdered Ser Rodrik, Nysa's uncle. Yes, I sent a man who is ruthless but I want the Ironborn to be dealt with in a ruthless manner."

Robb paused and sat back down.

"Theon betrayed me. I need him to go through as much pain as he is creating for me and those under my protection. I can only imagine what horrors Bran and Rickon are being subjected to. Did Theon make them watch Ser Rodrik's execution as the Lannisters made my sister's watch my father's?" He shook his head. "Theon brought that upon himself, so I sent someone who will do the worst onto him. As for Lord Bolton," he began. "Yes, I am upset that we lost more than two thousand men to the Lannister forces. I grieve for them, I really do. No one is more upset than I that Lord Bolton didn't immediately regroup with me. And no one seems to know where he went," Robb shook his head again. "But this is an opportunity for him to redeem himself." He looked around the table. "And that goes for all of my Lords. My father taught me to be just and merciful. Lord Bolton deserves such mercy."

He looked towards Torrhen then.

"I know you want to go. But I need you here, I need you to help me get Nysa back. I need you, Daryn, to stay here," he looked towards him. "You are the heir of Hornwood now. We don't know if your father has been captured or if he lay on the battlefield. There is a lot we do not know," he looked to Lord Karstark. "I cannot send either of you to face the Ironborn just yet. No," he shook his head, "you stay here and help me destroy the Lannisters."

"Your grace," a female's voice called out then and they all turned to see Lyra Mormont walk in. She had Alton Lannister with her. "Your messenger has returned," she pushed him towards the table as many of the others sneered at him.

"Ser Alton," Robb nodded to him.

"I've delivered your terms for peace to the Queen regent, your Grace."

"And what did she say?"

When the wagon went under the gates of Harrenhall, Nysa couldn't help but look around in awe. She had heard about what happened to this once strong and fortified castle. Her brother and Wyl rode behind the wagon along with Ser Daven Lannister - the son of Ser Stafford, her current patient. He had wakened twice during their journey and had spoken to her about how he was indebted to her. He'd wed his son to Nysa if that were the case but Ser Daven had violently protested marrying his cousin's whore.

Despite never laying with Ser Lucion, many of the soldiers knew not to violate her - for she belonged to Ser Lucion. And Ser Lucion was not just any mere knight or soldier. No, he was a Lannister and that held authority here in the South. That also meant that Jayne, Catelyn and Lyman were safe for the time being. She decided once in Harrenhall that she find someplace for them to hide away so that the Mountain would not search for them.

Ser Daven barely acknowledged her and at first, she wondered why he was keeping her secret safe as well. It's not like he owed her anything. Then when she found out that she was tending to his father - she found that Ser Lucion had arranged from yet another Lannister to be in debt to her.

It is about repaying a debt and a Lannister always pays his debts, she remembered Ser Jamie telling her when they were in King's Landing. In fact, that had been one of the last things he had told her until he left the Capital.

She barely had time to speak with Ser Lucion during their travel. Whenever they rested, he would set up his bed near to where she was but he didn't demand that she lay with him to keep up pretenses. No one questioned it. Jory did not like it at all - the rumor circulating about her keeping Ser Lucion's bed warm. He did not like the Lannister armor that he was now donning. But Ser Lucion assured both that he would have the men kept away from battle so that they would not have to face their fellow northmen.

"Are we there, yet?"

Nysa looked down to see Ser Stafford sitting up. "We are," she smiled as he began to pull his weight to get out of the wagon. "Ser..."

"I need to get out of this wagon and back on my feet," he grunted as he slid forward.

"But Ser..."

"Don't worry about me, girl," he said as he stood shakily on his own feet, right beside the wagon. Ser Daven strode up to his father with a slight smile on his face. "Give the girl something for her time."

"Ser, I did not do it to receive compensation," Nysa protested, jumping out after him.

"Nonsense," Ser Stafford chuckled.

Ser Daven reached behind him, taking out a small pouch and throwing it towards Nysa. She caught it and then held the pouch in confusion. It felt heavier than normal. Her fingers pulled on the opening and she gasped to see the sight. "Ser, I cannot accept this."

"Yes, you can and you will," Ser Stafford told her.

"There must be five gold dragons in here," she shook her head. "I can't..."

He pushed the pouch further into her hand and smiled. "You saved my life and a Lannister always pays his debt."

"Where's the girl?" They all turned to see Lord Tywin ride towards them. "There are some injured men here, please tend to them. Ser Stafford," he nodded to the man who replied in the same manner. "It is good to see you up and about."

"Thanks to this young woman here," Ser Stafford patted her shoulder before departing.

Nysa then hurried to get Jayne and Catelyn. She took them down to the kitchens and was surprised to see a familiar face there.

"Hot Pie!"

"Nysan," Hot Pie paused and looked her over. "Are those," he gestured to her chest and she stopped.

She explained to Hot Pie their situation and apologized over and over about deceiving him and the rest of those traveling but they needed to keep Arry safe. He said that he would speak to Arry later and she assured him that both she and Gendry were well and would like to see him and Lommy as well. Lommy was currently giving spare food to the prisoners and Nysa asked if Jayne, Catelyn and Lyman could be given work down there to keep out of sight from the Mountain and his men.

"So, we'll have to do work," Catelyn asked looking a bit flustered.

"It's only temporary," Nysa placed a hand on her shoulder. "Once everything is settled, my brother and the others will work out a plan for us to get North. Or perhaps they can get word to Robb and he can let your father know that you all are here."

"Was that your brother who was riding behind us," Lyman questioned.

Nysa nodded and turned to him. "I haven't had much time to talk to him since Lord Tywin had me tending to Ser Stafford. Now that he is well, I am to see to the others. But I know that in between work, I can find my brother and ask him more about it. I know that this isn't ideal for any of you," she looked around. "For now, this keeps you safe."

"And away from the other men," Jayne reminded her sister. "Thank you, Nysa."

Lyman asked if he could follow Nysa but she told him that it would be best if the men didn't see him so openly or they'd persecute him in some form or other. She did recruit Darion to assist her with tending to the Lannister troops who were hurt, though. There were a few who had wounds that needed to be cared for. She didn't enjoy the looks that she received from the others. It wasn't until she saw that some of the so called 'nurses' were entertaining the guards in other ways. She took Darion's hand and quickly led him away from the guards and back to where Ser Lucion could be found.

"We've underestimated the Stark boy for too long. He has a good mind for warfare. His men worship him," she heard Lord Tywin's voice as she entered the room.

She smiled lightly before nudging Darion forward towards where Ser Lucion stood. Ser Lucion turned to her and nodded. He gave her a small smile before leaning down to whisper something in Darion's ear.

"As long as he keeps winning battles, they'll keep believing he is King in the North! We've been waiting for him to fail, he is not going to fail," Nysa looked surprised at the mention of Robb being King in the North. She turned to Arya who looked over her shoulder quickly before returning to the task.

Darion hurried back to Nysa. "Ser Lucion said to choose a chamber for yourself and the other young women." Nysa looked up and smiled at Ser Lucion, which he returned. She had been distracted by it that she only heard Lord Tywin's voice grow louder.

She snapped her head away to look at him. "Go before I change my mind and send her your head!"

Ser Stafford cleared his throat before looking at the other man who stood up slowly. Nysa wondered what the conversation was but had been staring at Ser Lucion.

"If you weren't a Lannister, you'd be scrubbing out pots in the cook's tent. Now go," Lord Tywin barked as the man departed.

Darion even flinched and retreated a bit into Nysa's arms. She kept him steady as the Lannister Lord - whoever he was - exited the room. He looked humiliated and properly chastised by Lord Tywin. It was then that she realized he definitely was the most powerful Lord that there was. People had a right to fear him and Nysa wondered if they would make it out of here alive.

Arya watched the man leave as well and then hurried to pour Lord Tywin's cup.

"Not wine," he told Arya, "water, we'll be here for some time. Ah girl," Lord Tywin gestured to her and she stepped forward. "What is the well-being of the other guards here?"

"I've looked over the injured with the help of young Lord Darion, my Lord. Nothing serious," she answered simply, not wanting to overstay her welcome here.

"Thank you for my good brother," he nodded to Ser Stafford and she nodded in return. "Go and get something to eat," he waved Nysa off, "I'll have the boy call you if you're needed," he spoke of Darion who turned to her with a beaming smile.

I guess her thanks from Lord Tywin was receiving permission to eat a meal. She wanted to snort but held it back and quickly retreated, once again looking at Arya. Arya had better watch herself - she thought.

Nysa had just returned to the kitchen to see her brother, Wyl and Desmond speaking with Gendry - eating whatever Hot Pie was making. Hot Pie and Lommy were there and they were explaining their adventures since they got captured. She had just grabbed some bread and dipped a bowl into the pot her brother and others were sampling from. She grimaced at the look of it but took it nonetheless.

"So, you all are from the North then," Hot Pie questioned. "There's this Lord, a fat one..."

"Like you," Lommy added causing Hot Pie to turn to him angrily.

"Shut up!"

"What about this Lord," Jory asked in a stern tone causing the two to look at him.

"He's from the North also," Hot Pie said, "locked up in the cells."

"Oh him," Lommy rolled his eyes. "He's downright cruel that one. Called me a thief."

"You are a thief," Hot Pie pointed out.

"Shut up!"

"What colors did he have on," Nysa stepped forward excitedly. "Was he wearing a wolf or a sun or..."

"Neither," Hot Pie shook his head and reached for some fruit to put it into his mouth. Nysa grabbed his hand and pulled it away causing him to startle. "He has a man with a tail on his armor. Well on his old armor, 'cause they don't use 'um anymore in the cells."

"A man with a tail," asked Wyl.

"A merman," Nysa added, "House Manderly!"

She began rummaging through the kitchen for a large pot. "I've already fed them some scraps," Lommy said.

"They don't need scraps," Nysa protested. "Surely, you could make a warm broth or something better, Hot Pie."

" I could," he nodded, "but..."

"But what," she looked at him confused.

"If Ser Amory found out..."

Nysa waved her hand. "The Lannisters owe me a debt, they wouldn't let anything happen to you if I said so. Now come on," she urged.

Hot Pie helped Nysa fix up a huge pot of broth with pieces of pork and vegetables inside. He continued to worry about whether he would be okay and Nysa had to remind him every now and then about the debt. She also added that Arry was serving Lord Tywin's wine and made a joke that she could poison it if he was that scared. The thought immediately hit her and she wondered just how she or Arya could pull off murdering one of the most powerful Lords in the Seven Kingdoms.

She grabbed a few leather straps and had Hot Pie fit the pot so that she could carry it. Lommy went with her, carrying the bowls. He showed her where the prisoners were different. The first group of cells they passed, she noticed that they were filled with common people. When asked why, Lommy said that the men in charge here believe that they are harboring people who are fighting for the North in their homes.

"Here is where you wanted to go," Lommy gestured down a hall. "But I must warn you, they're not kind."

"They will be, when they see I'm here," she replied confidently before heading where he instructed her.

No one moved from deep within their cells. She looked around and couldn't help but feel disgusted at the sight. It was then that one of the men in the cells jumped forward and she took a quick step back.

"So, they sent a girl this time," the prisoner chuckled as a few others started to appear by the bars or through the opening in the doors, depending on where they were being held.

Nysa shook her head and tried to swallow down her fear as she approached the man. She noted that he didn't have any armor on but his tunic had a small merman embroidered on. "You serve House Manderly," she asked.

"What does that matter to you?"

"My name is Nysa Snow," she said as a few of the other prisoners began to murmur. "I grew up in Winterfell. Though I've never been to White Harbor, I've been friends with Lady Wynafryd for some time. Our name-days are..."

"You have presents that arrive at White Harbor from the South," he noted as Nysa smiled and nodded eagerly. "I escorted them twice from White Harbor to Karhold."

Nysa couldn't wipe the smile off her face if she wanted to. "I went there a couple time to assist Lady Mariah." She then proceeded to take out a bowl and scoop up some of the broth in it and hand it over to the prisoner. "As I said, my name is Nysa Snow. What is your name?"

"Symon," he nodded before taking the bowl.

"I know they said that you were fed but I thought I have them make something else, something with better taste."

"Thank you, my Lady."

She wanted to correct him but she decided to move on and continued to scoop bowls for the others who were there in the cell. She had just reached the second door when one of the Manderly men had called out to her. She looked at him expectantly, wondering what news he would give.

He whispered the words. "Ser Wylis is being kept somewhere else. He kicked one of the Lannister guards."

"Ser Wylis is here," Nysa's eyes widened before looking around.

"As I said, they keep him somewhere else for speaking back."

"Thank you," she reached in and touched his hand. "I'll look for him as soon as I'm done here."

"Thank you, Lady Nysa."

"Nysa?

She turned around and looked up at the door across the way. Through the opening on the top of the door she saw a familiar face and couldn't help but cry out joyfully. "Harrion," she smiled warmly and went towards the opening. She put the pot down and squeezed her hands inside - releasing a deep sigh when Harrion took hold of her hands. "We must get you out of here," she looked back at the Manderly guards. "Who else is in here?"

"A lot of us," Symon answered.

"What are you doing here, Nysa," Harrion rubbed her hands. "What on earth are you wearing and what happened to your hair?"

"We tried to escape King's Landing but got caught in the Riverlands."

"We?"

"My brother and a few guards from House Stark."

"How many," Harrion asked, hope filling his voice.

"Eight," Nysa answered and then closed her eyes, looking down. "Six, we lost two when we were captured by the Lannister's men. It's the reason why they cut mine and Arya's hair. They dressed us as boys so that the men would leave us alone. But then Lord Tywin could tell that we were girls and he," she paused and shook her head.

"Did you say Arya? Are the King's sisters here?"

"Just Arya," Nysa shook her head, "we weren't able to get Lady Sansa out. And what is it with Robb being called a 'King'? When did that happen?"

"Sometime after we received news that Lord Stark had been executed." Nysa's hands clenched and Harrion noticed. "You saw it happen, didn't you? His Grace is hoping that they didn't make any of you watch, especially his sisters."

"It's a long story, one that I will tell when we get all of you out of here," she said with determination.

"Where is the Princess Arya," Harrion asked causing Nysa to roll her eyes. Arya might not like being called 'princess'. She barely enjoyed the title of 'Lady'. "You said Lord Tywin could tell you weren't boys. Does he know exactly who you are?"

She shook her head. "We are posing as villagers from the Riverlands. There are two Lannister knights - one knows who I am and the other knows we're from the North. But they haven't said anything."

"Can they be trusted?"

She shrugged and looked away, wondering just how much he could tell Harrion. He would not like the idea of her spending her nights in the tent of a Lannister. They had never shared a bed but that wouldn't stop him from assuming the worst and then informing his brother. "I trust them enough at the moment to know that we won't be harmed. Where is Torrhen? Is he here?"

Harrion smiled before shaking his head. "Last time I saw him, he was going with King Robb to the Westerlands."

She slowly released his hands and he did the same, before gesturing her to come close as possible. He extended his hand as best he could and touched her cheek. He remembered the way Torrhen watched her in Karhold, or the way he danced with her in Last Hearth and Winterfell. He was surprised that Torrhen had waited so long to speak about his feelings to father. Edd had suggested for Torr to just bed the girl. Torrhen wanted to make her his lady, not his whore. When the ravens came from Winterfell, Torrhen was the one who was saddled and ready to go - ready to go and bring his Nysa back home.

"My brother is going to jump for joy when he sees you," Harrion said causing Nysa to close her eyes against his hand. A tear came down and fell onto his fingers. "None of that, you hear," he teased as she smiled and pulled back. "This will all be over soon, Nysa. We'll all go back home."

She nodded and then pulled away from the opening.

"There are over two hundred of us in here. Lord Cerwyn is still alive and locked somewhere," Harrion told her. "There are men from House Glover, House Hornwood and a few from the Riverlands as well."

Nysa walked further back inside the cells to distribute the broth. Many of the men welcomed her gladly, some had recognized her - such as Lord Medger Cerwyn, Ser Kyle Condon, Lord Robett Glover - who she exchanged stories with of his wife, giving him happy memories. She was a bit surprised that someone like Lord Glover would be here. He was a strong and fierce fighter. Then again, she was shocked that they had captured Harrion - another brave man. She found Ser Donnel Locke who sent her towards the cell next to his.

"Do you not want," she held up the bowl.

Ser Donnel shook his head. "You have to go to the next cell over," he instated.

Furrowing her brow, she put down the bowl and large pot. Taking a few steps there, she was surprised by how dirty and cold this cell was. She wondered who was here and prayed that it wasn't her Uncle, Ser Rodrik.

"Lord Hornwood," she screamed and tried desperately to reach for him through the bars.

"Lady," he coughed and turned away, "Nysa," another cough before she saw the blood.

"What happened," she pulled on the bars. "I need to get in there."

"Go," his voice was weak. "Go before they find you!"

"I can't leave you," she shook her head.

A painful groan came from the Lord. "It's too late."

"No!"

"Girl!"

She cringed at the voice and heard the prisoners stand up immediately, gripping the bars and begging her to run. Nysa turned around to see the imposing figure of the Mountain staring down at her.

"Does Lord Tywin know you are down here," Ser Gregor questioned.

"He said to make sure that the prisoners are well," Nysa lied, wondering how she could talk herself out of this. "They must look unharmed if the young Wolf is to accept them back."

Ser Gregor's eyes narrowed at her. "How do you know of his plans?"

She didn't but she had to think of something. And obviously, this was a correct assumption. "I told you, his lordship asked to make sure that they are well. Ah," Nysa released a small scream as the Mountain grabbed her arm, pulling her away from Lord Hornwood.

"Don't lie to me, girl," he snarled before leaning down to sniff her hair. "I bedded a young maiden such as yourself once. You smell like her. You look like her. I wonder if you'll scream like her."

"Please don't," Nysa tried to get out of his grip.

He dragged her out and back towards the way she came. The entire time, the northerners were screaming and shouting at him to put her back. She had just pulled free when they landed back in front of Harrion's cell.

"I have to tend to that Lord there. If he dies, the young Wolf will be upset," she pleaded.

"We will see what Lord Tywin has to say about this! And if I find out you are lying to me," he pulled her against him, took a firm hold of her bottom and squeezed it painfully before muffling her scream with his other hand. "You are mine for the night."

"No," Harrion shouted and banged against the bars as the Mountain led Nysa out of the cells, laughing as they disappeared.

Ser Preston held the young woman close to him and continued towards the door where he knew could get them into the keep. He had just rounded the corner when one of the men who held Sansa had jumped onto his back. He couldn't very well fight the men off as he did earlier - not with Sansa in his arms. Before he could turn to face the man, blood splattered across his face and he noticed the Hound standing behind him.

"Get the girl inside," the Hound growled at Ser Preston as he lifted his sword at another man.

Ser Meryn opened the door for them, both annoyed and relieved when they entered. "Lady Sansa," Tyrion came towards them then. "Are you hurt," he asked as Sansa continued to grip onto Ser Preston's arm. She refused to turn and look at anyone.

"She has a few cuts," Ser Preston replied before attempting to settle her on her feet. "We are alright, my Lady. We are back in the keep."

"They tried to," she spoke softly and began to sob in his arms, "they could have."

"But they didn't," he replied as her shoulders wracked with grief. Ser Preston looked over at Tyrion who was eyeing his nephew with anger and frustration. "I do not know how to comfort a crying woman."

"What man does," Tyrion questioned with light humor before reaching up to touch Sansa's arm. "Rest easily, my Lady, you are safe. Though," he turned to look at his nephew and shook his head, "as safe as she can be. Take her to her rooms," he ordered Ser Preston who nodded.

Sansa continued to weep in his arms. This wasn't the first time that he had seen her in distress and this wasn't the first time that he had come to her aid. He remembered when he and Ser Arys were ordered to slap her. She had just been beaten in front of court and to his horror - Ser Meryn had done it gladly and willingly. He was thankful that Lord Tyrion had walked through the door and knew immediately that if he wasn't sent there that Joffrey would continue to bring down calamity upon the poor girl. However, when he and Ser Arys were watching over them during their luncheon there was no Lord Tyrion to stop it.

Ser Arys looked reluctant to hit her at first but continued through with it. And when he picked her up, he jerked her so violently that her head fell back and that was when he took the opportunity to feign the slap. He barely grazed her face, causing her to turn immediately back to him in shock that he hadn't slap her. Later that night, he offered her a lemon cake - hearing from her handmaiden, Shae - that they were a favorite of hers. She quietly asked why he had not slapped her and instead of answering that question, he told her that Lady Nysa asked to make sure Sansa was kept safe. The girl began to cry once more and for what reason he was not sure but he left her alone after placing the lemon cake on the table.

Shae nodded her thanks before the door was closed. This time has he took her to her rooms, Shae was there and panicked at seeing Sansa in such a state.

"The King," she asked and Ser Preston looked at her cautiously before helping Sansa to her bed.

"A riot," Ser Preston answered. "A mob attacked the royal party," he said as Sansa turned away and began to cry once more. "The Lady was separated from everyone."

"Thank you, Ser knight," Shae said as she got some cloth and warm water ready to tend to Sansa.

"If possible, may I have a word with the Lady," he said causing Shae to look at him, "alone."

Shae eyed him warily but did as requested and went towards the door. She turned to face Ser Preston and Sansa but did not depart. "I am far away enough to not hear your conversation," she said to the knight.

Ser Preston smiled at her outright disobedience to a member of the Kingsguard and in turn, her shining loyalty to defend her Lady. He turned back to Sansa and tapped her shoulder and waited for her to face him.

"I know that you need rest but I just wanted to give you this," he reached into his armor and around the hidden pocket in his tunic to retrieve the letter he received yesterday. "After you read it, I suggest that you burn it."

Sansa stared at the letter in his hand, still not sure who she could or could not trust here in King's Landing. She pushed herself to sit up, slowly took the letter and unfolded it. She stared down at it, immediately feeling a sense of relief, contentment and joy overtake her. Sansa looked up at Ser Preston sitting on her bed.

"She said to give it to you when the time is right. There never seemed to be a time where I could get you alone," he explained as Sansa felt her lips twitch upwards for the first time in weeks since her father's execution.

Sansa gasped and sobbed happily like a mad person reading through the letter again and again. She covered her mouth and couldn't help but clutch the letter towards her chest, looking over at Ser Preston with watery eyes and appreciation in her smile.

"Get some rest, my Lady," he stood up and turned to see Shae walking towards them then. He looked back at Lady Sansa, "remember what I said about the letter."

She nodded and thanked him again as he departed from the room. Sansa stood up, not waiting for Shae, and walked towards the fireplace. She stirred up a few of the heated embers in there before throwing the note inside.

"My Lady," Shae began to look at the fire questionable and a bit surprised.

"It was nothing, Shae," Sansa said softly as she watched the small flame take over the words on the parchment.

Forgive me, Sansa for not being able to get you out safely, also not coming back for you. The decision will haunt me forever to know that I failed your father in protecting both you and Arya. I do not know what they have told you but Arya and I are alive and well. We are escaping King's Landing today with the help of Ser Preston. Jory says we are to ride North. But I believe we will meet Robb on the road. Once we do, we will get you out of there, Sansa. I promise. Know that we are fighting for you, Sansa. Your brother, your mother, your sister and I, including the entire North. We are fighting for you - the wolf among the lions.

Eddard shook his brother's hand before going to mount on his horse. He was journeying with the King to Ashemark. Lord Damon Marband had decided to surrender and pledge fealty to Robb and that was only if he went there himself. Word had arrived that Robb had the Lannister's army retreating and scattered with every battle that he won. Despite their initial dislike for Ramsay Snow, he had been one of the main commanders in helping to destroy forces at Golden Tooth - something that had put Lord Bolton within Robb's good graces. And now Ramsay had left for the North to dispatch of the Greyjoys in the North.

"Patrek, Torrhen and Daryn," Robb commanded the three of them as they stood at attention. "I want you all to keep guard over the Kingslayer."

Robb knew that being in the Westerlands with Ser Jamie in their camp wasn't the best location to keep him. At the same time, being in the middle of a few Westerland castles weren't helping either. What did help was that the Lannisters were not coming to the aid of their men. And Robb knew why.

"We have one thing that Lord Tywin wants," he said looking at Daryn. "And soon we will have a second," he added causing the men to cheer. "And with those two prizes, you know he will give us everything we want. His daughter can tear up any paper that she wants," Robb took out his sword and Grey Wind seem to acknowledge that they were about to ride. "For the North!"

"The North," his men shouted as they left the grounds near Castamere.

"Well, who gets first watch," Patrek teased Torrhen and Daryn, knowing full well that they had yearned for a battle.

It had been some time since they had fought and they were somewhat envious of Robb choosing only four of his personal guards to accompany him. The other three were to protect his mother, which they knew there was no need to, especially with that lumbering woman that was following Lady Catelyn. So, they were left to play guard over the Kingslayer.

"I'll go," Torrhen sighed as Patrek laughed at him.

Torrhen found himself a small bowl of meat before heading towards the cage where the Kingslayer was being held. He held up the torch to see the two Lannisters were on opposite ends of the cage, speaking about how they were kin. He couldn't help but snort at their conversation before setting himself up by a nearby log.

He sat down and looked out over the camp, hearing the men converse, shout and laugh about whatever it is that they were speaking of.

Every now and then he'd look back at the cage to make sure that there were still two figures there and no one else was around them.

His watch was just about to end and he was glad for it. He did not like sitting about idly. He was a hunter, a fighter, a lover - he smiled at the last part and thought about what King Robb said regarding Nysa. Perhaps, they'd name a son after him, he mused in his head as he saw Daryn a distance away, stretching as he exited from the tent. He had not taken any of the stray women floating around the camp and for a moment he was glad. He wouldn't want Daryn to make the same mistake with Alys that Torrhen had made with Nysa. Then again, Daryn and his sister were betrothed. Nysa and he were not - at least not yet.

A sudden gasping noise had his head turning towards where the Kingslayer was kept. He took out his sword and ran full speed towards the cage to see that there was a body on the ground and the Kingslayer was turned to the side.

"What happened," he asked.

"What," the Kingslayer turned to him, looking dazed and confused.

Torrhen cursed and walked towards the fallen Lannister man, turning him over. The King would not be pleased that someone had died on his account - especially if that were a Lannister. He shook his head and was just about to stand when a force pulled him down.

A chain wrapped around his neck and he struggled to hit the person behind him. He stretched his hand, feeling for the sword he had dropped but he could feel the hold on his neck tightening.

No, he wanted to scream.

Not now, he thought desperately as his mind become flooded with darkness.

His hands moved around and he struggled to keep his mind in the present, to save his breath, to save his energy. But Torrhen had so much left to fight for, so much. Not now, he begged.

His arms grew weak, his voice was gone, his eyes were heavy and his body was becoming slack.

Torrhen tried to focus on something else, anything but the air that was being sucked out of him. His throat hurt, his arms, his mouth - everything. He felt one final pull of the chain on his life. The last thing that came to his mind as he took his breath was Nysa walking into the godswood, torches lighting her path, with a smile on her face.