Chapter 19

Theon looked around the room of Ironborn. "I took the great castle of Winterfell with twenty men."

"You're a great warrior," Yara acknowledged before biting into her meat and pointing outside. "I saw the two bodies above your gates when I entered. Which one gave you the tougher fight? The cripple or the six year old," she asked with casual indifference.

It did not stop the men from laughing at Theon. He huffed indignantly and marched towards his sister, coming to a halt where she sat. "I treated the Stark boys with honor and they repaid me with treachery."

Yara looked up at her brother. "You treated them with honor," she questioned, "by butchering them," a raised eyebrow and a questioning look fell on her face.

Theon didn't like it. "Before I," he emphasized but his sister was not having any of it.

"You use their home as is your right," she clarified. "We're Ironborn, we take what we need."

"Exactly!"

"Then you made them prisoners in their home and they ran away," she looked towards him. "Is that treachery? I call it bravery."

"They made me a promise."

Yara looked down, shaking her head before staring up at him. "Oh, the little boy prisoners made you a promise and you got mad when they broke it? Are you the dumbest cunt alive?"

"Call me a..."

"Cunt," Yara stated again. "A dumb cunt who killed the only two Starks in Winterfell. You know how valuable those boys were?"

"If I didn't kill them, the Northerners would think me weak."

"You are weak. And you're stupid."

"I'm warning you," Theon threatened.

Yara didn't appear to be deterred in anyway. "Go on then. Warn me," she said.

Theon turned to look down at the table. All the men were silent, looking upon the exchange with interest, a few with mocking stares. He didn't need that. Instead he focused back on his sister. He had just captured Winterfell for his family and this is how they repay him?

"You haven't brought enough men. How am I supposed to defend Winterfell with just this lot?"

"You are not," Yara commented. "I've come to bring you home. Father wants a word."

"Is this a joke," Theon chuckled. "Winterfell is the heart of the North."

"Aye it is," she agreed. "Hundreds of miles from the sea," she added. "We're Islanders, baby brother. Or have you forgotten that? Our power comes from our ships. And now that you've decorated your walls with the bodies of the Stark boys, every man in the North wants to see you hanged. When Robb Stark finds out," she shook her head.

"Robb won't find out. We've killed all the ravens. We have all the horses. I've taken Winterfell. And I will keep Winterfell."

Yara sighed, knowing this needed more than just ridicule and shame. "Leave us," she nodded to the men, who promptly listened to her word.

She stood up and came face to face with him.

"Theon you are my blood," she spoke softly, kindly and a bit too fondly for her men to be present. She was about to show a familial weakness she did not need them to see. But her brother needed to see it. "We both loved our mother. We both endured our father. Come home with me. Don't die here, alone."

"I don't intend to die," he snapped back.

"Do you know what is happening right now, brother," Yara asked. "Right now there is a small Northern army that is heading your way from the South. And our scouts report that there is a second small Northern army fighting at Deepwood Motte as we speak. Do you know why they are fighting? It is because you killed those boys. Now is not the time to think about your pride or bringing glory to our father. Think about your life, Theon," she urged him. "They will come for you."

"I will stop them."

Yara shook her head and looked down. "You still whine the same as you did when you were a baby." Lifting her head, she stared pointedly at him. "You were a terribly baby, did you know that? Bawling all the time, never sleeping. One night you just wouldn't shut up," she added. "I walked over to your crib, looked down at you. I wanted to strangle you. You looked up at me and you stopped screaming. You smiled at me."

"Yara, what..."

"Don't die so far from the sea," she advised one last time before walking away.

Jon looked back at Osric as he gave an order to Umber guard. Greatjon's younger brother, Harmund Umber was also here. He stood next to Jon, staring out over at Deepwood Motte. The Ironborn were leading stolen goods out from the walls - that much was certain.

"There's a passageway up that hill," Osric jogged back towards Jon. "It's an unknown tunnel that will lead us straight into the heart of Deepwood Motte. Our other scouts say that there are some longships waiting at the shore and a thousand Ironborn have secured the castle."

"A thousand," Jon questioned. "I wonder how much men Theon used to capture Winterfell."

"Far less than a thousand, I'm afraid," Osric answered nervously.

"I heard that it wasn't even a hundred," Harmund Umber added.

Jon glanced at Osric, anger boiling from the pit of his stomach out to the tips of his finger. His hand tightened on his sword and glanced back at the castle on the hill. He wondered if Theon had marched straight into Winterfell - using his prior relationship as a ward to undermine his brother. Bran had already endured much and for Theon to subject him to that. Theon was going to die - slow and painfully.

"What about now," Harmund turned back to his nephew.

Osric looked confused. "Now?"

"How many Ironborn are in Deepwood Motte now?"

"Many of them have fled. They've heard about us coming, no doubt," Osric replied. "But we are still outnumbered."

"They know the North wants revenge," Jon commented. "That's why they're leaving. They know that we're here. They must know that Robb is sending someone to defend Winterfell."

"Let us hope so," Harmund stated. "Now which way are we going in? Through the tunnel?"

"They won't expect it," said Jon. "We'll send some men through there. Osric and I will go with them," he nodded towards the other young man. "Harmund, I want you to go around, through the front. The Ironborn won't know what to do. They'll try to retreat but there will be nothing and no where for them to retreat to but back to their Iron Isle."

"Leave me," Robb commanded his Lords as they sighed and exited the room.

They had been working on a strategy in regards to his sister, Sansa. Now that Joffrey had cast her aside for Margery Tyrell of Highgarden it seemed that she was in greater need of rescuing. Jory had stated that Sansa had found favor in Joffrey's eyes - which was difficult to regain after the incident on the Kingsroad. Many of the Lords were sure that with her being betrothed to Joffrey, she would be safe. But now, Robb shook his head and threw the parchments about the room. Things weren't so simple now.

His head snapped up at the small noise at the doorway. Slowly his hand reached towards his sword as the door pushed open. It wasn't an attacker. It wasn't one of his Lords returning to discuss matters. Instead he pulled his hand back and felt a huge wave of relief at seeing the young woman peer into the room. She looked startled when their eyes met. She had been avoiding him for the past couple days and he wasn't sure why. She bowed her head sadly and went to leave.

"Nysa," Robb called out to her.

Nysa looked over her shoulder and nodded to him. "Forgive me for intruding on your privacy, your Grace. I was seeking my brother."

"I just dismissed him along with the rest of my Lords. Our discussions about our next plan of action was going nowhere soon."

She offered a tentative smile before nodding again. "Then I will leave you to your thoughts. Good day, your Grace."

Robb took offense at the title. The last time they had spoke, he held her in his arms and sought comfort from his expectations as King. He wasn't sure that he could stand to watch her leave him alone again. And that's when it happened. Something snapped inside of him at the thought that she was pulling away from him.

"Don't leave."

"I have to speak to my brother."

"Surely it can wait," Robb pleaded. "I haven't seen you these past three days. And I want some other form of conversation besides this war."

"Then you should seek out Arya. She's desperate to leave her room and begin her training down in the yard," Nysa attempted to smile.

"My sister has already found her way down there and is training with Lady Dacey," he chuckled slightly. "I would much rather speak to you."

She was about to walk away from the door and approach him but instead turned away. "I have to go."

"I want you to stay," he said softly. She went to protest but he continued, "I can't have one more person I care about walk out on me, Nysa. Not right now, please. Don't walk out."

Tears started to form in her eyes, the pain in her heart almost more than she could bear. She too wanted to speak to someone about anything other than this war - the war that had taken away the only father-figure she had known, the war that had murdered her betrothed, the war that took away her Uncle, took away her home. She'd never been this vulnerable before. The last time she felt strong was when Robb held her a couple days ago and whispered his dream of them in her ear. She didn't like the feeling she was getting right now.

"I know you feel alone and confused right now. I do too," she admitted.

"Exactly why I want you here."

Nysa shook her head. "I know you feel betrayed by the people that were supposed to protect you. I feel the same, almost - that is true," she acknowledged. "But we can longer speak to each other, Robb. I need to protect myself now. That is why I must go," she replied and went to close the door.

"Please Nysa," he practically shouted, "if you walk away from me I may not be able to survive it."

She was gone and he wasn't sure if she had heard. He looked up and saw that there was a small opening where she had disappeared to. He wondered if she had already gone down the hall. Walking closer to the door, he reached for the handle and pulled it back to see her on the other side of it.

Theon stared at the fire as the horn continued to sound. Maester Luwin heard his complaints and sighed. "No," he answered Theon's question about Balon Greyjoy.

"Send more ravens," Theon instructed.

Maester Luwin walked further into the room and sat down. "You killed all the ravens."

"First time I saw Winterfell," Theon began and then paused when the horn blew again for the thousandth time. "First time I saw Winterfell," he continued, "it looked like something that had been here for thousands of years and would continue to be here thousands of years after I was dead. I saw it and I thought, of course Ned Stark crushed our rebellion and killed my brothers. We never stood a chance against a man who lives here."

"Lord Stark went out of his way to make it your home."

"Yes, my captors were so very kind. You love reminding me of that. Everyone in this frozen pile of shit has loved reminding me of that. Do you know what its like to be told how lucky you are to be somebody's prisoner? To be told how much you owe them?"

"Lord Stark never took young children as prisoners," Maester Luwin said.

Theon stood up to reply, anger and frustration flowing through him. Instead he was angered more when a horn sounded yet again. He marched towards the wall, "I will kill that man."

Maester Luwin sighed heavily again. He knew Theon was a troubled man but right now he was being prideful. He listened as Theon continued to rant about the other Northmen who were out there and waiting. Turning his head to the young man he watched grow up, he felt that he had to do something - anything to save Theon.

Jon and Osric stood in the middle of the yard in Deepwood Motte, waiting with anticipation as the gates were lifted slowly. Ghost paced back and forth, his tail low and his mouth pulled back in a snarl. They had entered through the tunnel undetected and made their way inside, killing a few Ironborn who were still left behind. Once the guards from House Glover realized what was happening, they too began to fight the Ironborn soldiers who were left.

One of the Ironborn had just about ready to let an arrow fly towards Jon when Ghost appeared and took him down by his shoulder. Jon nodded to him - as if an understanding had passed through the two - and Ghost continued to defend Jon and the other northerners.

In the chaos, Jon didn't notice that Lady Glover and her children were being taken. There was another battle outside being led by Harmund Umber. Osric had been the first to point out that the Ironborn had retreated with captors and were making their way to the ships. They cut down the chains, closing the gate, trapping the northmen inside of Deepwood Motte.

Jon glanced at the men who were turning the handles, the gate lifting slowly. They did not come all this way to see the Ironborn take Lord Glover's family. No, they were going to protect the North.

"For the North," Jon shouted, adrenaline causing his heart to beat frantically as the gate lifted higher.

"For the North," Osric and the others shouted as they began to run out of Deepwood Motte.

Robb watched as Nysa sang a Southern melody horribly. It wasn't that she had a horrible voice, no. She was attempting to mimic a singer she heard in the halls of Kings Landing while reliving the tale of Sansa dancing with a Southern knight during a feast they had. Currently they were hiding under the table - something they had done as children in Winterfell when his mother was looking for them.

She turned towards him with the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. He smiled in return as she went to slap his chest. "How dare you ask me to sing and then laugh at me under your breath," she teased.

"All I wanted to know was if the song was appropriate for my sister to be dancing with some knight and you were the one who started to sing it," he teased in return.

"I was attempting to show you what had taken place. I was painting a picture, mentally," she said with a small giggle before covering her mouth.

They both started to laugh at their silliness before she resumed her spot next to him. She sat shoulder to shoulder with him, her legs tucked up under her, smoothing her dress so as not to display anything inappropriate. It didn't matter, Robb thought to himself. Hiding under the table with a King was nowhere proper. But he found that he didn't care.

"Tell me more about this knight that sought my sister's hand."

"He gave your sister a rose before his joust during the tourney," she smiled before it disappeared. "Lord Baelish," Nysa said his name with distaste, "stated that the knight had used deceptive tactics to win."

"Did he?"

Nysa shook her head. "Then again, I didn't believe it. The knight didn't appear to be cunning."

"Where is he from?"

"From Highgarden, he is close friends with Renly Baratheon. I suppose that's why this knight's sister was wed to Renly," Nysa replied.

"Margery Tyrell," he asked as she nodded.

"Have you met her? I was told that she is quite the beauty. When we were in King's Landing, Renly mentioned her once to me. He said she was enchanting. I would have dearly loved to meet someone like that. Perhaps your mother saw her when she went to treat with Renly. She could confirm the rumors."

Robb reached out his land to weave his fingers in with hers. "You would have to ask my mother. I, on the other hand, have not met her and I don't think I need to."

"Why not?"

He leaned forward slowly, watching her intake of breath and the reddening of her cheeks. "Because I already know someone who is enchanting," he whispered before his lips came down on hers.

It was nowhere near soft as their first kisses had been, testing and exploring. No, it was passionate and deliberately intense. Nysa's heart accelerated in her chest and heat swept through her body as Robb's hands moved to wrap around her waist and lift her frame onto his lap. Emotions that they both tried hard to hide broke free. Her arms went around his neck, holding him tightly.

He felt her warmth and it made his cock painfully hard. Robb began to nibble at her lip until he was finally able to pull away, only to press light kisses on her face and down her throat. Nysa's fingers held tightly to his shoulders and her head fell back slowly, surrendering to the storm that Robb was starting. He nipped and licked at a piece of her flesh between her shoulder and neck. She tasted divine.

"Robb."

Her soft voice caught his attention and he moved away to allow his gaze to wander her face, searching for her hidden desire. She looked delightfully aroused with her flushed skin, dark eyes and loose curls. Slowly Nysa fully looked at Robb, their eyes locked. Robb wanted to blot out everything that had happened these torturous months. There would be a long list of things he had to deal with in the morning but for now, he was just a Robb and she was just Nysa.

He rolled them from out under the table and picked her up in his arms. His heart, his mind, his soul had always belong to her. Tonight, he would give her his body.

Rickon looked around as Hodor walked ahead with his brother.

"Keep," he mumbled as he looked towards the castle. "It is where I sleep."

Smoke rose through the air and white fell down around him. But as he held out his hand he realized that it wasn't snow. It melted between his fingers just like snow would melt but it wasn't cool to the touch. No, it was not. It smudged on the tips of his finger and turned it a greyish color. Hearing his name, he quickly wiped it on the sleeve of his tunic and hurried towards Bran and Hodor to see them standing by Summer and Shaggydog whining about whatever was out there.

His feet caused him to pause and he glanced back at the walls of the castle. "Keep," Rickon murmured again as the smoke and ash continued to grow and his good memories of where he would sleep, slowly disappeared.

"No," he heard the shout of Bran and ran this time, pass the walls of Winterfell and pass the figures of Shaggydog and Summer.

Alysane Mormont stood near the tidal flats along the shore, looking out over at the five ships she had acquired from the Ironborn. It wasn't much considering but she had many good reason to be proud. The ships were ready to set sail. They would soon be on their way to Bear Island to stay there until they were of use to the North. She watched as the men she assigned to the ships lifted Mormont banners.

Here we stand, she thought.

She turned her head at the sound of approaching footsteps. One of her men-at-arms nodded to her. "We have gained a victory."

"Have we," she asked.

"Lady Glover and her children are back in Deepwood Motte."

"Good," Alysane nodded in appreciation. "Who from House Umber led the charge? I wish to speak with them."

It was then that a skeptical look came across the guard's face.

"What is it?"

The guard cleared his throat. "Jon Snow led the men," he answered.

"Jon Snow?"

"Lord Stark's son."

"I know who Jon Snow is. But last I heard he was at the Wall," Alysane turned back towards the sea and looked at the Stark banners on one of the ships.

"He wants to march towards Sea Dragon point to ensure that there are no other Ironborn hiding along the shores."

Alysane thought a moment on it and wondered why House Umber had not punished Jon as a deserter. She was sure Last Hearth would have been the first to receive news that Jon had left his post and broken his vow. It was then she thought about what she should do. Lord Stark had always handled those matters, her mother had reminded her of that, reminded everyone of that. They had never had to face deserters on Bear Island. Wildlings, yes. Deserters, no. Thoughts of her Uncle and her cousin entered her mind then. Her cousin had been dishonorable and so left the Seven Kingdoms, causing her Uncle shame.

With traitors and dishonorable men running rampant, even here in the North, she wasn't sure how to handle this piece of news about Lord Stark's own son breaking his vow. A part of her wondered at how House Umber came to terms with such a argument. Should she send word to her Uncle at the Wall and inform him that she knew of Jon's whereabouts?

"He helped free House Glover," the guard reminded her as if he could read her thoughts.

Alysane sighed and looked towards the wolfswood. Just beyond those trees a young man was waiting for her decision. She bit her lip and cursed. House Stark always had the loyalty of House Mormont. Here we stand, she gripped onto the hilt of her sword as she came to her decision.

"I am not one to pass judgement on Jon Snow. He would have to answer for that to his brother and King."

"Then we will march with him?"

"Aye," she nodded. "He rallied what was left of House Umber to come here. And with Winterfell now taken, we'll need all the help we can get to reclaim the North and rid it of the Ironborn."

Robb laid her down slowly, the weight of his body pressing her into the soft featherbed. He reached a hand behind her and tugged lightly on the tie of her gown, pulling it down and skimming the newly exposed flesh. Nysa felt a new kind of heat take over her as Robb's eyes fell upon her breasts. She felt a bit embarrassed and insecure. That was until Robb's head dipped low and began to caress her breasts in a way that she had never experienced.

She couldn't bring it in herself to leave him, no matter the damage. Not when he was taking away the pain and sorrow that was swallowing her up everyday.

"Nysa," she felt Robb's lips against her stomach, cool and warm at the same time.

She wanted to crawl away from him. She wanted to stay wrapped up in his arms forever. Her heart had broke and yet somehow it had started to beat. The plea in his tone called to her, tying her down and setting her free.

Suddenly his body was gone from hers and she felt the cool breeze hit her body, aware that she was naked. "Don't," Robb reached out for her hand just as she was to cover herself. "You have nothing to be ashamed about, Nysa."

Robb's breathing was as shallow as her own when he gazed on her body. He took a small step back from the bed and quickly freed himself from his clothing. Nysa's insides turned to molten liquid at the sight of his undressing. His muscles moved as they slipped off his tunic and breeches. And when his cock sprang free, she leaned forward and reached out to touch his lower abdomen, watching in awe as his body shivered under her fingertips. Her arousal was growing and overtaking the sensible part of her brain.

Her hand brushed over his long shaft and she shook her head. "I'm not sure what to do," she replied.

Guilt ate away at Robb then. Unlike her, he had done this before. He reached out his hand and cupped her cheek, lifting her head to look up at him. "Do not worry about that. Just know that I want you, Nysa. Tell me what you want. You can have anything tonight."

His voice was deep and her entire body tightened in anticipation. "I want to be loved."

Robb gestured for her to move back on the bed. He climbed over her, kissing, caressing every part of her body. Her toes began to curl as she felt his whiskered chin tickle the inside of her thighs. The room spun and her world tilted as his hands tenderly stroked her center. She moaned and felt her breath depart as his mouth dined on her breasts.

The head of his cock nudged at her entrance and instinctively she slid her feet apart, allowing him to press forward. Just as Robb thrust into her, he brought his mouth down to hers and swallowed her scream. Her muscles stretching uncomfortably and her eyes squeezing shut. Her nails dug into Robb's skin, causing him to groan in delight. Guilt and shame this time ate away at him as he realized he was taking pleasure from this where she was not. He pushed his weight onto his palms and pulled back to look at her.

Nysa didn't feel extreme pain but a throbbing sting that wouldn't go away as she felt him move out and then back in. Robb moved slowly, at his own leisurely pace, studying her face for any indication that she wanted it to stop. He continued with the soft thrusting that she was thankful for. It allowed her muscles to accommodate to his girth inside of her. Robb bent down to kiss her neck and then moved his head to the other side of her, pressing another tender kiss there.

Gasping at the sensations beginning to grow, Nysa opened her eyes and slowly moved her legs to wrap around his body. Robb lifted his head to look at her and their gazes locked. He rocked into her body slowly, never looking away or breaking the connection that had formed, holding them together. Nysa had never felt this close to another human being, this open and exposed. She grasped onto his shoulders as he began to speed up, feeling a tightening in her core.

"Robb," she moaned as her eyes fluttered close before quickly opening again. Her hands moved from her shoulders and tangled in his auburn locks, pulling him down to her. She kissed him with urgency as her core started to pulse, desperate to hold onto something solid for fear that he was sending her body flying.

He nipped at her bottom lip before lifting to look back at her face. Now there was nothing but passion. He felt it too, burning through him. He knew that he cared for Nysa and had even said that he would wed her. But now, he realized just how much he meant all of it. He hadn't expected to feel this deeply or this much. Now he knew that he needed her.

They were consumed in the sounds of their love-making, the warmth of their two bodies moving and the passionate bond keeping them tied to the earth. Robb caught the twisted look on her face. She felt it too. And now he knew, she would be his every night from now on. Burying his head in the crook of her neck, Robb groaned out in pleasurable agony as his seed spilled into Nysa.

"Lady Glover," Jon bowed his head in respect.

"Jon Snow," her voice pierced through the cool air in the hall. "I have it in me to send you back to the Wall."

Jon flinched and nodded before looking up at her. "Aye, you should. My father would have my head if I came to stand in front of him."

Lady Glover's mouth lifted slowly. "No, I don't think he would."

He wanted to argue with her and remind her that he took a vow, a vow that was for life. His Uncle warned him. Nysa had warned him. You don't understand what you be giving up. Uncle Benjen's words echoed in his head. He was giving up Robb, Nysa, Bran, Arya and the rest of them. It was not often that Uncle Benjen came to see them at Winterfell. And even if he did, there were still moments that he missed - Arya learning the bow, Robb on his first hunt, Bran riding a horse or Rickon learning to talk. He made a vow to give that up just as his Uncle Benjen had. And now he was here, asking for all of it back. His father would surely think him a spoiled child.

"Do you really believe that, Jon," Lady Glover asked, "that your father would gladly execute you, his own son?"

"I've seen him lift the blade to other men. I'm sure they were someone's son."

Lady Glover turned her attention towards Osric Umber, content to leave the conversation of Jon Snow for now. "And what is this news about Winterfell? You are certain that the Ironborn have taken that as well?"

Harmund Umber answered for his nephew. "While Torrhen's Square was under attack, Ser Rodrik Cassel had several men from House Karstark, House Manderly, House Hornwood and House Tallhart helping to rid him of the Ironborn. They had just secured Torrhen's Square when Moat Cailin and Winterfell was lost."

"Moat Cailin," questioned Lady Glover, "how is this possible?"

"I do not know how quickly they spread through the North and our arrival here seems late, I know," Osric finally replied.

"If they got pass Deepwood Motte, who knows where they'd march next," Lady Glover shook her head.

"They want to break us," Osric added.

"The Ironborn have killed our ravens," Lady Glover said, looking towards one of her husband's guards. "They want us cut off from our King. We could send a rider but with Moat Cailin gone, I'm not certain if that is what is best."

"Jon," Osric turned to him.

"I left the Wall because I wanted to avenge my father's death. I wanted to protect my sisters who are in the South. I wanted to help my brother," Jon answered. "The Ironborn tried to cut us off but we are still here. We can still protect the North. When I was a child, Ser Rodrik once told me that the North is the largest of the Seven Kingdoms. The largest and yet they are loyal to my father because he is an honorable man. Many of your men have followed Robb to avenge my father, protect my sisters. The rest of us are here to protect the North. We are not lost nor are we cut off."

"But we need to decide what is to be done," Lady Glover stated.

"Once we secure the shores, we'll go down to Winterfell," Jon stated. "And then Moat Cailin. The Ironborn won't take the North. I won't have it."

"And neither will I," Osric added.

Lady Glover nodded. "Take as many men as you need then, Jon Snow. Protect the North."