Chapter 17

"What were you thinking," Jory scolded his sister.

"He was going to speak to Lord Tywin! He was going to tell on Arya!"

Jory looked at Arya and then at the two other ladies who were in the room with them. He shook his head and started to pace.

"Your instructions were to find out Lord Tywin's plans," Arya retorted causing Jory to stop.

"Yes, but that did not involve stealing letters from his desk!"

There was a knock at the door, making everyone turn to look that way. Jory went to hide under the bed as Arya answered the door, a look of slight disgust marring her face when she saw that it was Ser Stafford.

"I am here for the healer," he said as Nysa appeared in the doorway.

"You have need of me, Ser?"

"Not me," he shook his head. "Lord Tywin has heard of your skills in helping with myself and others like the Frey prisoners." She nodded and looked down. "There's another fallen knight that seems to need your aid."

She couldn't believe the irony of it all when she was brought before Ser Amory's bedside. She had been the one to draw the arrow and kill him. Yet here they stood - those of House Lannister along with other Lords and knights from the Westerlands - requesting that she save Ser Amory's life. He was dead, she was certain of that. The arrow hit the back of his head. When she leaned down, she noticed that his eyes flitted back and forth. His chest still heaving slightly. A part of her felt terrified, should he truly wake and say that Arya had stolen letters from Lord Tywin's desk.

Nysa knelt at his side and hesitantly reached for a bowl of water and dipped a cloth inside. Once the cloth was damp enough, she moved to press it against his forehead and realized that he wasn't going to be living for long. She had hit a nerve that paralyzed his entire body and he would no longer be able to move any muscle after that. But how could she explain that without giving herself away as the shooter.

One by one the men left the room as she was left to tend to Ser Amory all alone. She did her best to clean the wound on the back of his head and bandage it. The least they could have done was that, she thought to herself. Before she knew it, Ser Amory started to convulse. She panicked and ran outside to see the Mountain standing there.

"I need help, Ser Amory..."

He pushed past her to see the other knight's body moving about erratically. "Come on," the Mountain barked at her as he tried to get Ser Amory to stay still but it was of no use.

Nysa was not sure what had happened. It could have been a nerve or blood vessel that had popped and leaked into the brain. She had heard of that once before but rarely had seen such things. She also thought that he could have been possessed. Old Nan had told them stories about such things.

"It's a ghost," she backed away only to have the Mountain grab her, pulling her back to Ser Amory's side.

"There's no such thing as ghosts!"

"Then the Gods are taking him," she shook her head, staring at the Mountain. "This isn't right! This isn't normal!"

Blood started to gargle forth from Ser Amory's mouth and before she knew it, the Mountain took out his sword and plunged it into the man's head. Nysa covered her mouth, restraining the strangled scream that threatened to leave and turned away from the sight. The Mountain took her arm and pulled her to Lord Tywin's room. She was thrust inside the room and started to sob uncontrollably.

"Clegane," Lord Tywin scolded as Nysa wiped her face, "what is the meaning of this?"

The Mountain put his sword away and shook his head. "Ser Amory's body was past being rehabilitated, my Lord. I simply did the inevitable."

"He's dead," Arya proclaimed as both Lord Tywin and the Mountain looked at her. Arya immediately looked down and away.

Lord Tywin walked up towards Nysa and snapped his fingers causing her to look up at him. "Didn't you ever see a man die before?"

Nysa shook her head, "not like that."

"Is that why you weep for him?"

"I," she paused and shook her head. "I've been able to save most men under my care," she whimpered before he handed her a small cloth and commanded her to wipe her face. "I've never lost anyone."

"There's no use in crying over one dead man you could not save, girl," Lord Tywin told her. He motioned to Arya. "Give your sister some wine, she needs a drink." Arya went towards Nysa who took the cup shakily.

"My Lord..."

"Go on," he said as he sat down. "If you mother truly served as a handmaiden to a noble Lady then she would have taught you not to refuse a Lord," Lord Tywin gestured for her to drink and Nysa did. "Let me tell you something, girl," he began as Nysa looked at him. "The art of healing is much like the art of battle. You saved Ser Stafford's life but failed to save Ser Amory's - the piece of shit made more mistakes than I could count. You lose some and you heal some. Like battles, you win some and you lose some. The difference depends on the one you save," he pointed to Ser Stafford, "not the one that was lost."

"Rhaenys Targaryen," she said as he titled his head at her.

"You know of what I speak," Lord Tywin asked.

"A septa told me of a writing she wrote to Aegon the Conqueror. The words you spoke came from that writing," she pointed out, "that winning the right battle, wins you the war."

Lord Tywin smiled. "Tell me something, girl, if Robb Stark wins a hundred battles," he began as Arya cast her a look, "does that mean he'll win the war?"

"No," she answered.

"And why is that?"

"He isn't any closer to the Iron Throne by fighting soldiers in the Riverlands."

He leaned back in his chair and looked at her before lifting his hand to point at her and talking to his other Lords. "That is why I feel these two girls would be better at planning my next battle strategy, than any of you!"

"As of now, Stannis marches on the capital," Ser Stafford began as he looked towards Nysa, "and the young wolf is closing in on Casterly Rock."

Things that Nysa had been told the night before by Ser Lucion. She glanced over at him and noticed that he was watching her.

"Our scouts said that Robb Stark is north of Ashemark," Ser Kevan Lannister cautioned.

"The last time our scouts reported on Stark's movements, we were lured into a trap," Lord Tywin argued, causing Nysa to look at him. He was already looking at her. "My son is his prisoner. Too close to Casterly Rock, that wolf is. Do you understand that?"

Nysa nodded and turned to see Ser Kevan stand.

"He sent a force to the North. The Greyjoys have done us a great favor," he added as Nysa and Arya locked eyes. Nysa subtly shook her head and Arya resumed her work.

"What have the Greyjoys done, my Lord," Nysa dared to question.

"They've captured Winterfell, it seems," Lord Tywin answered as Arya came close to dropping her pitcher of water. "Balon Greyjoy has proclaimed himself King, King of the Iron Islands," Tywin snorted before requesting for water. "And he has decided to strike Robb Stark's home."

"Then what Ser Kevan says is true, my Lord," Nysa repeated. "The Greyjoys have done you a great favor." He eyed her heavily. "Especially if Robb Stark sent some men to the North to retake Winterfell."

"Stark isn't at full force," Ser Kevan said calling his brother's attention away from her. "He won't risk going to Casterly Rock."

"He's a boy and he hasn't lost a battle. He'll risk anything at any time," Tywin shouted, causing Nysa to lift her head higher, "he's not afraid of anything. You and your sister are smart, indeed. She reminds me of my daughter and you remind me of my sister. If you were a man, where would you go?"

"To King's Landing," Nysa answered. "The Iron Throne is a great prize."

Lord Tywin looked back at the table where his Lords and other war council were sitting. "We ride out at nightfall. I want a full night's march before he knows we're on the move."

Arya looked at Nysa, angry and nervous.

"Clegane," Tywin turned to him, "maintain a garrison here at Harrenhal. Find out who assassinated Ser Amory and destroy any sign of rebellion here." He looked at Nysa and then at Arya. "The girl will stay here with you, along with her sister," he glanced at Ser Lucion who nodded.

He dismissed both Nysa and Arya - Nysa to do as she pleased and Arya to fetch him something to eat before he rode away.

"What do you think you're doing, informing him about going to meet Robb," Arya pulled on Nysa's arm.

"Lord Tywin isn't going to meet Robb because we're going to get a raven out to him, that Tywin is retreating from Harrenhal. He'll be able to take this place and you'll be reunited with your brother and mother," Nysa replied before Ser Lucion walked to meet them at the end of the hall. Arya ran off and left Nysa standing there with the knight.

She had never felt nervous to stand with him before.

"I know that we didn't get a chance to discuss things but..."

"You're leaving me here," Nysa smiled at Lucion before he took her hand and pulled her away from the others.

"Tywin is leaving the Mountain in charge of Harrenhal," Lucion said as he shielded her with his body.

"I know," she nodded.

"I can't protect you if he..."

"My brother is here and the others," she said.

"It doesn't mean that I enjoy the idea of you being here with him."

"Thank you for everything," Nysa leaned up and pressed her lips to Lucion's cheek.

When she pulled back, he smiled at her, cupped her face in his hand and leaned down to kiss her lips gently. He didn't say it, probably never needed to. But it was there - a promise he would have made, a promise he wanted to make, a promise he couldn't fulfill. This knight felt for her the same as Torrhen did.

"If only," he mumbled and released a frustrated sigh.

"I saved your life in King's Landing," she moved her head to look up at him. "You are grateful for that. That's all that this is."

He shook his head as if to doubt her, but didn't comment any further. "I pray you return to your beloved," he whispered before stepping back and leaving her.

Nysa put a hand over her heart. She felt wanton. She had kissed three - no, four - different men. Perhaps she was a whore. She couldn't imagine the betrayal on Torrhen's face if he ever found out that she had shared a kiss with a Lannister knight. He may not want to wed her after that. Shaking her head, she dismissed the thought and hurried to find her brother.

She rushed down to the yard to see that there were some men who were being tortured and questioned about Ser Amory's death. She shuddered as she past the bodies and found Arya speaking to Jory and the others.

"Lord Tywin leaves tonight," Jory repeated as he saw Nysa come into their circle.

"He's leaving the Mountain in charge. There will be at least five hundred men here with him," Arya said, "since Tywin is taking majority of them out to meet Robb."

"It gets Tywin out of Harrenhal," Nysa countered. "And besides there's two hundred northmen in the cells as we speak. They'd fight for Arya."

"Wait, so what exactly are we doing here," asked Alyn.

Arya smiled and looked back at Nysa. "We're going to take Harrenhal for Robb."

Nysa stabbed the guard in the back, at the exact point she remembered hitting Ser Amory with her arrow. The guard didn't move, neither did he make a sound. She would have to remember that there was a nerve back there that could render her victim, motionless. She listed as two guards approached from the other end of the cells. Slowly she drew out her brother's dagger. Gendry was right next to her with a few swords that he had made since they had arrived here at Harrenhal. She notched an arrow and lifted it up as Gendry tightened his grip on his hammer.

"Divan," one of the guards started walking towards them, calling out to the guard Nysa had just stabbed. "You're being relieved of duty! Go find a kitchen maid to enjoy," the guard laughed as Nysa told Gendry to get ready. He nodded and just as she kicked the guard in front of them down, she released her first arrow hitting the first guard approaching them.

The second guard's eyes widened and he turned to run but Nysa had gotten another arrow prepared and let it fly. When he hit the floor, Gendry hurried and went to unlock the first cell with a few prisoners inside. He tossed one of the men in there a sword. And where the others started to complain, Nysa turned around and reminded them that those swords were for their Lords first.

"Lady Nysa," a voice called out from a closed cell and she motioned for Gendry to come over.

"Ser Hosteen," she nodded to him as he exited and took a sword from Gendry.

"What's going on?"

"Lord Tywin has left the castle to go to Casterly Rock. There's five hundred men still here under the Mountain's charge," she explained as Gendry unlocked the cells for Ser Hosteen's brothers. She saw him give a sword to Ser Stevron Frey but she took it away immediately. "I can't have you fight again."

"I feel as though I can cut down a hundred men," he sounded determined as she shook her head.

"There's five hundred..."

"And more than two hundred of us," Ser Danwell reminded her, gripping his sword. "We can take the castle."

"If you're sure," she looked at Ser Stevron.

"I'm sure," he answered.

"Good," she nodded and led them out on their cells, down the halls and towards the exit.

They had just gotten there when she saw one of the Mountain's men waiting by the door. He smirked and withdrew his sword but didn't get far when Nysa lifted her bow and shot him. They hurried out and just as Nysa got there, another one of his men approached. She pulled the arrow out of the man she shot and went to notch it again only to get a strike against her face. Several other men entered their area and began to fight with the Frey guards.

The man who hit her, pulled her up by her hair. She struggled against his hold. He had pushed her up against the bars. Remembering that she had her brother's dagger, she pulled it out and drove it into the man's neck, thrusting it in again and again until he dropped her. When he fell as well, she drove the dagger into his head this time for extra measure before being picked up by Ser Danwell and Gendry. Neither of them appeared to have a scratch on them.

"Let's keep moving," Gendry told her and they exited.

Jory and Wyl began leading the northmen out from their cells. Nysa and Gendry were to take a separate part of the castle where she claimed some from House Frey were being held. Alyn and Cayn along with Desmond were taking the last part. And whoever made it out first was to take the keep. And since Jory and Wyl had made it out first, they had hurried with their force of eighty men to face the Lannister soldiers.

It had been a while since Jory had fought but he was glad to see that he and Wyl were holding their own. Harrion Karstark was among the first men that Jory had released and he was cutting down men quickly that Jory couldn't even keep count. At this rate, they'd overwhelm the Lannister forces inside and win. Arya, Jayne, Lyman, Hot Pie and Lommy - who all insisted that they help - had been the ones to seal the gates. They would make sure that no one would escape to warn Lord Tywin or any other Lannister forces nearby.

Alyn and Cayn came out then with Lord Glover and some other men in tow, overtaking the armory and stables quicker than he thought possible. Slowly their forces had taken every part of the castle. And when he turned towards the yard, he noticed that there was still one person very much against them.

The sword slashed through the air, cutting down three men at once and Jory's blood chilled as he saw the Mountain pound his chest and shout triumphantly.

Jory made his way there only to see the Mountain pierce Poll - a fellow guard for House Stark. Now they were down to five guards who had left Winterfell. He watched in horror as Ser Gregor Clegane lifted the man's body with his sword and threw him across the yard, screaming a war cry before beginning to wave his sword at the many others who went up against him.

Jory went after the Mountain this time.

Their swords clashed and echoed in the yard as the men shouted in agreement whenever Jory got a good hit on the Mountain.

He thought about his sister being slapped by this huge monster of a man.

He remembered the screams of young girls at night.

He saw the relief on the two ladies' faces when his sister saved them from the Mountain's men.

Ser Gregor Clegane had killed one man during the tourney for Lord Stark, came close to killing another and had injured him so badly that that night he could barely dance with his sister at the feast. Whether it was by accident or not - he knew that the Mountain showed no remorse whatsoever. He saw what happened with Ser Loras Tyrell. He saw the madness that he had brought upon the Riverlands and the people here.

Lord Stark had stripped him of his titles, he was to be punished. And Jory was going to see that it was done.

As much as Jory had desperately attempted to keep up in this fight - the Mountain was stronger. He overpowered Jory, making him lose his focus. Jory tried again and again to block or evade the Mountain's strikes but it was useless.

The Mountain - seeing his opportunity once he disarmed Jory - slashed his sword at the guard, causing him to groan in agony. He laughed darkly and continued to thrust his sword forward - Jory doing his best to get away.

One blow pierced Jory on the side, causing him to fall to the ground.

He felt like he had failed Lord Stark and attempted once more to get up until he felt a force kick his side. It was so powerful that it took the very breath away from him.

Nysa saw her brother on the ground and the laughing taunts of the Mountain. She had only three arrows left and shot them - one after the other at the Mountain.

The first arrow hit his shoulder, the second hit his neck and the third hit his leg. He cursed with every arrow that sunk into his flesh. To her surprise, he would either pull out the arrow or break it off and continue fighting. He had just held his sword up, ready to strike at her brother when Nysa ran full speed towards him. She jumped onto his back and took out her brother's dagger.

Nysa stabbed his head with the dagger twice before he pulled her off from him and flew her across the yard. Her back hit a wagon at such force, causing the wagon to break and Nysa to scream in agony. She tried to push herself up but the Mountain grabbed her by her hair and began to beat her head into the ground. She noticed the dagger still lodged in his head and reached for it. She had just pulled it out when he slammed her back in the dirt, causing her to blink rapidly at how blurry things were becoming.

She lunged forward, not knowing where she was aiming and landed the dagger in the Mountain's thigh. She continued to do it, running between his legs and dodging his attempts to grab her as she stabbed him wherever there was no armor. It wasn't until he fell to his knees that she climbed onto him again and proceeded to stab his neck.

He growled, grunted and cursed at her, trying to reach for her. She had screamed when his fist yanked on her hair but that did not stop her from stabbing his neck. She went to the other side where the arrow had been and continued to stab him there.

He fell forward and Nysa climbed on top of him, lifting her dagger in the air before plunging it into his forehead. She stabbed him - allowing her anger, frustration and desperation to overtake her. Three pairs of arms pulled her off and she kicked and screamed at them to let her go, leave her alone.

"Stop it! He's dead already!"

Nysa yanked her arm free to see Harrion, Danwell and Stevron by her side. She turned to the Mountain to see that he was nothing but a bloodied form lying in the dirt. She shook her head and reached for Harrion who pulled her into his arms and let her cry.

Jory held out his arm for his sister and Ser Donnel and Wyl helped him to stand. He couldn't be on his feet for long but all that mattered was that he saw that his sister was okay. She reached slowly for his hand before dropping it and closing her eyes, she turned into Harrion.

"She's badly beaten," Harrion told Jory, "but she'll live. She's from the North," he smiled before chuckling.

"Aye," Jory smiled and Wyl patted him on the back.

"We did it," Wyl said.

"Aye lad, we did," Lord Glover came over towards them. He saw Arya in the distance and gestured for her to walk over. "For Princess Arya Stark! For the North! For Lord Eddard!"

Arya was hoisted up on top of a shoulder of two guards - one belonging to House Manderly and the other to Lord Cerwyn as they shouted for her, for the North, for her father, for Robb. She smiled and looked around before her eyes settled on Nysa who had awoke to smile at Arya.

"You are back," Lady Catelyn went to greet her son but Robb looked away.

"How many men did we have sent after the Kingslayer," Robb questioned.

"Forty, your Grace," Smalljon answered.

"Robb," his mother shook her head.

"Send forty more," he told Smalljon before turning to her. "Inside," Robb ordered.

Lady Catelyn walked in. As she saw a few of the other Lords - Lord Karstark, Lord Umber and a few other men - walk in, she turned to sit down at her chair. There was a moment of silence that helped to breathe life to the tension and anger brewing inside of Robb. His mother sat there looking as though she had committed no wrong. Her eyes looking straight at his, daring him to make a move.

"Why," he asked.

"For the girls," his mother answered.

"You betrayed me!"

"No," she shook her head.

"You knew I would not allow it and you did it anyway," Robb accused.

His mother sighed before turning towards him with a determined look. "Bran and Rickon are captives in Winterfell. Sansa and Arya are captives in King's Landing. I have five children and only one of them is free."

"I lost one son fighting by your son's side," Lord Rickard stated. "And I lost Torrhen," he stepped forward, "strangled by the Kingslayer with a chain. He was to wed Lady Nysa!"

"Lord Karstark," his mother began but was caught off.

"He was the one who encouraged me to ride with your son to the South. He came for her and now he is lost!"

"I..."

"Can you imagine what she will think when she learns of this," Lord Rickard questioned. "You speak about only one child being free," he spat on the ground. "Eddard died two days ago, fighting to protect your son. Torrhen died while guarding the Kingslayer. And Harrion," he snorted, "I do not know where my firstborn and heir is. He left with Lord Bolton and did not return! At least you know where your children are! I would cut out my heart and offer it to the Father if he'd let my sons wake from their graves and step into a prison cell."

"I grieve for your sons, my Lord," she looked at him.

"I do not want your grief. I want my vengeance. You stole it from me!"

"Killing Jamie Lannister would not buy life for your children," she shook her head then turned to Robb. "But returning him to King's Landing may buy life for mine."

Robb stared at his mother. "Jamie Lannister has played you for a fool. He weakened our position. He brought discord into our camp," he told her. "And he did that all behind my back."

He shook his head.

"Make sure she's guarded day and night," he commanded Smalljon.

"Robb," she went to stand but he turned away from her.

"Your Grace," Lady Dacey came running towards him then. "This just arrived," she held out the letter.

"Where did it come from," Robb asked as he took it.

Dacey smiled and looked around the camp. "You wouldn't believe it," she said as a few of the Lords and guards around them stopped. "I could barely believe the words myself!"

"What is it," Ser Perwyn questioned.

"It's a raven from Harrenhal," she nodded to it as Robb opened it quickly.

He scanned the words quickly. An immediate feeling of joy overwhelmed him and he almost turned around to inform his mother. Robb spared his Lords a look and then nodded to Smalljon. "Tell my mother that Arya is in Harrenhal. We ride there in the morning."

Robb kicked his horse to the front of the riding party, his guards - or what was left of them - quickly matching his stride. He had five personal guards now and though a few of his Lords were urging him to choose two to replace the fallen Karstark brothers, Robb felt it was too soon. He looked back at the Karstark soldiers who had drifted towards the middle of the envoy. They were grieving. One of their Lord's sons murdered by the Kingslayer, another who took an arrow for Robb at the Ashemark and the heir to Karhold - Robb shook his head - could have been lost as well.

No, he would wait until another time to choose two more personal guards. He knew that Lord Karstark wouldn't be able to fathom the thought of seeing his sons quickly replaced so easily and dismissively.

"We should discuss how we are to set siege to Harrenhal, your Grace," Lord Bolton met Robb.

Ser Perwyn narrowed his eyes along with Smalljon. "The Princess Arya is in that castle," Ser Perwyn nodded towards it, "surely there's no need to..."

"And so we should ride in, unprepared," Lord Bolton looked back at him with disdain before leaning closer to the King. "The Mountain was rumored to be left in charge of this place. He will defend this castle, defend whatever Tywin Lannister tells him to."

"Your Grace, if I may," Lady Dacey began, "your sister's letter stated that she is safe."

"The Lannisters would have you believing anything they want you to," Lord Bolton argued. "The last time they discussed things with you, both Arya and Sansa were at the Capital. Now which one sounds more reasonable?"

"The one that says the Queen holds both of my sisters," Robb replied as Lord Bolton smiled at Lady Dacey before turning to Ser Perwyn with a dismissive look. "However, that Queen has been known to lie before."

"Aye," Patrek Mallister replied with a grin, "she has."

"There is our welcoming party," Robb nodded towards the small group of horsemen leaving the gates of Harrenhal.

"Stark banners," Smalljon noted.

And in that moment, Robb allowed himself to believe that his sister was truly behind those ruined walls. He urged his horse forward, his guards following him closely. It wasn't until he spotted a familiar face among the group that he hurried to them.

The guard rode quicker upon seeing his Lord, his King. He stopped a distance away, arguing on whether he should dismount and kneel on the ground. Robb noticed the hesitation and nodded to Wyl.

"Wyl," Robb chuckled, "you are a welcomed sight for these eyes."

"My Lord, pardon me," Wyl smiled and bowed his head, "my King."

"I'm still getting used to it," Robb said before the others joined them. "How did the castle come to be under your command?"

Wyl chuckled this time. "It is in the name of Princess Arya that the men have dedicated our victory to. She is in command of the castle."

"Just like a true northerner," Lady Dacey smiled.

"Princess Arya," Robb smirked.

"She is rather fond of the title," Wyl remarked. "To her, it holds more power behind it."

Robb shook his head. "Allowing her to do things that she wants, I assume." Robb looked past him to see a few of his Lords and other bannermen who were waiting just outside the walls of Harrenhal. "I can hardly believe it," he murmured as Wyl looked over his shoulder also. "My sister is there. The rest of the northmen are there," he smiled.

"Let me take you to them, my King," Wyl said as he turned his horse around.

Wyl, Lord Glover, Ser Donnel and a few other guards had rode out to meet the men that were approaching. The men who were coming held the Stark banners with them. But Jory had decided that before he opened the gates to them that he send out a party to meet them halfway. Anybody could have gotten that raven, he argued with Nysa. Just because it was sent out did not mean that Robb would have gotten it.

Lord Glover gave some sort of signal and Jory turned back from over the gate to look at his sister. Both her and Arya looked up past them to see the Stark banner fall from a window. Arya smiled at the sight of it. Now there were Stark banners that hung on the walls of Harrenhal. She took Nysa's hand and gave it a squeeze.

"For the North and for my father," she dropped Nysa's hand and looked out to the coming crowd.

Nysa turned back around to see the army in the distance beginning to grow and a small smile broke out on her face at the sight of Karstark bannermen among the riders. She smoothed over her dress, hoping that she would look well enough to receive Torrhen. She had so much to tell him, so much to discuss with Lord Rickard Karstark. What if Robb didn't receive her last letter about his father's intentions of giving her Greenhall? What if he did, but forbade it? She shook her head at the thought. Robb would never do that.

A slight groan of annoyance escaped the mouth of Arya, causing Nysa to turn towards her. She was fidgeting with her dress the same as Nysa. Nysa smiled a bit because she understood why. There weren't much proper gowns for a Princess here - the kitchen maids and the other small folk had told her. But Lady Shella Whent had found an old dress belonging to her daughter and had placed Arya inside of it, stating that they were kin after all. The dress was a nice shade of grey but the detail on the bodice was intricate and pretty.

"Your gown is simpler," Arya frowned.

"I am not a Princess of the North and the Trident," Nysa teased.

"I think this is the only part of the entire Princess ordeal that I could live without."

"Your mother would be happy to see you in it, don't you think," Nysa pressed.

Arya looked down, "I suppose."

Gendry chuckled behind them.

"Do shut up," Arya called over her shoulder.

"Arry looks like a girl," Nysa heard Lommy whisper.

She had to close her eyes because she knew that Arya was about to snap at them. Arya was just about to also but Cayn took a step forward, stopping in the front of her. Behind them were the members of House Frey. Ser Wylis stood at the bottom of the steps along with a few other knights in service to House Manderly. A few guards from House Hornwood stood to the side and Nysa felt a stab of pain at the inability to save Lord Hornwood.

Jory called for the gates to open as the party drew closer. Lord Glover was riding alongside his brother - united once again.

After five riders, it was the next one who made Nysa's breath catch.

Robb rode in with his small group of guards surrounding him. Several of the Lords and their men he noticed bowed their heads to him. He nodded to many of them - pleased to see that they were alive and well. Smalljon pointed out the Stark banners hanging on the walls and it made Robb's heart beat wildly. Of all the mad things that his sister could have done, he'd never imagined that she'd take a castle right from under Tywin Lannister's mad-dog, Ser Gregor Clegane.

His eyes searched for Arya then only to land on another young woman.

Nysa noticed that Robb had grown some and looked every bit as a fighter as the stories she had heard. They were calling him the 'young wolf' and Nysa could see why. She chastised herself for allowing her heart to thump in her chest - she couldn't help it especially when presented with such a sight before her. True, she had met many knights in King's Landing but they were nothing compared to those in the North.

Robb's mouth went dry at the sight of Nysa. But behind her, stood knights and men belonging to House Frey - a House that he had made a promise to. Therefore, he was reminded that he could no longer entertain thoughts of the young woman he had been so captivated with. He smiled slightly at Nysa - that was all that was allowed - before his eyes rested on the figure next to her.

Arya stood there, still as a statue. She had been desperate to see her family. It had been months since she had seen Sansa, months since her father had been executed, over a year since she had seen Robb and her mother, Jon and the rest of her brothers. Could this truly be happening? Arya saw her brother and disbelief hit her - was he really here?

He dismounted in front of them, looking towards Nysa once more before settling his gaze on his sister. Ser Wylis and some others bowed their heads to him but he paid them no mind. His eyes focused on the young girl that was his sister. The dress was too feminine for her. But he could see it in her eyes that she didn't care what she was wearing to welcome him - only that she welcomed him.

"Arya," he smiled softly.

In a flash of light, Arya ran towards her brother.

Robb caught her - uncaring if his Lords and men were looking at them. This is what he had been fighting for, this is what they had been fighting for - the return of his sisters, the daughters of their liege Lord. For that one small moment all the problems in his life didn't exist. She was still the small creature he remembered her to be. But she had grown not just physically but emotionally as well. She had survived, somehow she had. Out of all of his siblings there was no doubt that she would.

"Gods be good, Arya," he laughed as she wrapped her arms around him.

"Robb, tell me you're real! Tell me that you're here and we're going home!"

He began to laugh before squeezing his sister tighter. "It's me, Arya."

And that did it for Arya.

"I hate it here, Robb! I hate it," she broke down in tears. It reminded Nysa that despite how strong and brave Arya was, she was still a young girl. She had seen her father executed. Her sister was left behind in King's Landing. A few heads turned away from the scene - allowing the Stark siblings their moment of weakness, grief and joy to overcome them. "I want to go home," Arya squeezed her brother.

"I know," Robb told her, keeping his younger sister close.

"They murdered father, Robb! They murdered him!"

"I know," he repeated and Nysa saw the wetness behind his eyes.

This time she turned away from the scene as well. Her eyes looked for Lady Stark but she did not see her and neither did she see her Uncle. Dacey dismounted not long after the King and bowed her head to Nysa before embracing her.

"It is wonderful to see you all," Nysa let out a deep breath before being released.

"We are all pleased to see you," Dacey said before nodding towards Arya who was still locked in her brother's arms, "and the young Stark Princess as well."

Nysa opened her mouth to respond but a gasp fell from it instead. Lyra Mormont had came charging in, embracing her friend before pushing her back. "Got us all scared there for a moment, Snow," Lyra teased Nysa as they sported smiles at their reunion. "And Gods," she proclaimed examining her friend, "what happened to you?"

"Oh you know," Nysa shrugged non-chalantly, "couldn't let you take down all the soldiers in Westerors."

Lyra and Dacey laughed. "How did you do it," Lyra grabbed her friends hand, eager to hear the tale. "I mean Harrenhall," she looked around. "You and Arya took Harrenhall!"

"We did not do it by yourself," Nysa looked around as well.

She saw that behind her the members of House Frey had stepped forward to welcome the rest of their kin who were travelling with the King. Nysa noticed a familiar face among them and smiled when Ser Perwyn's eyes landed on her. He smirked before she saw his eyes flit towards Lady Dacey who abruptly turned around and walked away.

"He and Dacey were caught in a most compromising position a couple weeks after the Freys had joined our camp," Lyra mentioned with a teasing smile. "She wasn't dishonored, mind you. I doubt she would have let him but," she shook her head, "Dacey was charmed and she doesn't want to admit it."

"I'm surprised he still lives if that were the case," Nysa smiled, watching Ser Perwyn speak with the other guards who were in the cells.

"Oh believe me, they spar all the time," Lyra replied as they walked further towards the crowd. "He is an enticing man - according to her. But she'll make him work for it."

"Lady Nysa," Smalljon called out and lifted her into his arms.

"Smalljon," she laughed before he settled her back down on her feet. "It's good to see you!"

"You have no idea how much that raven meant to our camp when we received it," he chuckled. "We were in the middle of a dire situation when it had arrived."

"Dire situation," she asked as Lyra threw a punch at Smalljon's shoulder. "What is it?"

"Lady Nysa!"

Nysa didn't get an answer from Lyra or Smalljon. She had turned away from them and her smile widened at seeing the group of men approaching.

"Waylyn," Nysa shouted as she recognized one of Karhold's guards.

"Lady Nysa," he smiled at her.

She ran towards his horse. "I am so glad to see you. Harrion," she called over her shoulder as he came rushing to her side. "Harrion is here." A lot of them looked relieved at that news before their expressions changed back into something somber. "I am so pleased to see all of you again," she looked around and nodded at them as they dismounted from their horse. "Where is Torrhen," she smiled and looked about the men.

She was met with silence before she turned back towards Robb and Arya.

"I have not seen Lady Catelyn either."

"She should be coming in soon," Waylyn replied.

Nysa's head whipped towards him then, shocked as to why Robb was keeping his mother separate from him. "I hope to speak with her soon. Is Torr, perhaps with Lady Catelyn? Is he part of her personal guard?"

"Lady Nysa," Waylyn took a step towards her. "Torrhen is not here."

"I don't understand," she shook her head slightly before another horse made it's presence known.

It was Lord Karstark. He dismounted gruffly, before reaching for Harrion. They shared a quick embrace before Lord Karstark pushed him back to look at him. "Gods, I thought I lost all of you."

Harrion wore a look of confusion. "What do you mean, all of us?"

Lord Karstark was about to answer before his eyes settled on Nysa. She reached for her skirts and curtsied for him. "Lord Karstark," she offered him a small smile.

"Nysa," he nodded sharply before turning away from her. He released Harrion and looked towards the guards. "Has anyone told her, yet?" A few of them shook their heads and Nysa wondered what he was referring to. "Nysa, perhaps I should speak to you privately."

"Of course, my Lord," she looked at Harrion but nodded to Lord Karstark. "But first may I inquire as to where Torrhen is? I have not heard from him in some time and I wanted to discuss..."

"What I need to speak to you about is regarding my son," Lord Karstark replied.

"Well," Nysa looked around again, "where is Torrhen? Did he go back to relieve Winterfell?"

"My lady," Lord Karstark began, "he is not here."

Harrion cleared his throat next to her and looked down. Nysa looked at the men again to see their faces drop. "Well, has he been captured?"

No one responded.

"Has he been taken to another castle? Locked in their prison cells," she asked.

Again, no one replied to her question.

"My lady, let us go and speak about this privately," Lord Karstark held out his arm for her but she narrowed her eyes.

"Where is Torrhen," she questioned again.

Lord Karstark gestured for a guard to come forth. Nysa's head turned to see Torrhen's horse, Bull, trotting forward. The saddle was empty. She shook her head and turned back to Lord Karstark as he patted the horse. Harrion placed a hand on his father's shoulder before turning to Nysa with sad eyes. His brother was not coming for Nysa as they expected - his brother would not be coming at all.

"My son was guarding a prisoner when he lost his life," Lord Rickard started to explain.

"No," she shook her head and turned back to his father. "Tell me he's locked up somewhere," she begged. "Tell me that he rode back to the North to help with the Ironborn," she pleaded.

"I am sorry I cannot."

"Please, my Lord," she whimpered, "tell me he's alive!"

"He brought this with him," Lord Karstark gestured to the side of Bull. There was Nysa's sword - a name-day present she received from her Lord Uncle many years ago.

"No," she shook her head again and took a step back, the tears falling from her eyes.

"He wanted to return it to you."

"Then he can give it to me when I see him again," she wiped her face furiously. "Because he's in the North somewhere or he's locked up..."

"Nysa," Harrion began.

"No," she shouted at him. "He's not dead! He can't be!"

"Torrhen made a few changes to the blade, a small inscription of our sigil," Lord Karstark ran his fingers over it before putting the sword back in and handing it to Nysa.

"I will only accept it when he hands it to me himself!"

"He won't be, Nysa," Harrion said, placing his hand on her shoulder.

Nysa shrugged him off before stepping further away. "Yes he will!"

"Nysa?"

She turned to see Jory looking at her with concern. He scanned the crowd and noticed too that there was a missing Karstark. He saw her distress from the top of the gate and hurried down to see what was happening. And now he realized what exactly it was - Torrhen Karstark was not alive.

"They're saying he's not here but I don't believe them," Nysa's tears ran down her cheeks and it broke Jory's heart.

He knew exactly who the 'he' was that his sister was referring to.

"I'm so sorry, Nysa."

"No, no, no," she repeated as she shook her head.

Jory hurried towards her, wrapping his sister in his arms before she collapsed on the ground from her grief. She beat his chest and continued to protest Torrhen's death. No matter what she said or did, he held onto her, letting her draw strength from him. He rubbed her back as she calmed down and looked towards Lord Karstark who was explaining the story to Harrion. She was so close to being betrothed, so close to being with Torrhen. And now he was taken from her.