Part 3
Queen of the Trident

Chapter 22

Nysa stared at Robb as he continued to move about their room. He had just informed her that she would be going with his mother - in other words, he was sending her away from him. She reached out and pulled one of his tunics away. "And what am I to do in Riverrun?"

"You will be safe there," he commented, grabbing the clothes from her hand before turning away again.

"Safer there than here," she asked. "I am the one who helped you gain Harrenhal. Arya and I were here fighting Lannister guards with only two hundred Northmen. We are safe here, we've been safe here for weeks before you arrived with the rest of the Northerners. Robb, honestly..."

"My mother's father has fallen ill. She wants to travel there to say her goodbyes. It would be best if you were there with her, if you and Arya were there with her. You can keep an eye on Edmure," Robb insisted.

"He is not a child. He is a Lord's son and he's fighting in your war."

"He attacked the Westerlands - something I had not hoped for - and has taken many captives," Robb shook his head.

"Perhaps that is a good thing. Could we ransom them as your mother had done with Tyrion for your father's bones," she asked.

Robb sighed, closing his small trunk and calling for Olyvar to come inside and take it out. Olyvar bowed to both of them before exiting. Nysa looked expectantly back at him once they were alone again.

"That is why I am leaving. Edmure holds the Lord of Hornvale, the Lord of Banefort, the Lord of Crakehall and the Lord of the Crag as some of his prized prisoners. The Crag, Crakehall, Banefort and Hornvale have decided to pledge their fealty to me in order to spare their Lords' lives."

"Then I should be by your side."

"Nysa..."

"Robb, I am your Queen. If they are to pledge their loyalty to you, don't you think it wise that they see me? I am to become their Queen after all."

"You are to go with my mother and sister to Riverrun. The decision has already been made. I won't be long."

"I need to go with you," Nysa insisted. "Robb, you need to think of an heir."

He turned sharply towards her. "How can I when you no longer desire to share my bed?"

"We share the same bed! What are you speaking of?"

"You know very well that whenever I reach over for you, you bark at me louder than Grey Wind," he argued.

"That's because we've been arguing all day. Then at night, you seem to think that you can just roll over me and I'll spread my legs gladly for you," she shouted. "You belittle my opinions in front of the Lords. You silence me whenever I want to give a suggestion."

"They are my Lords, Nysa. Not yours, mine," he disputed.

"You made me your Queen. They are mine as much as they are yours. And yet you mistreat me in front of them!"

"You undermine my decisions," Robb countered as he got close enough to her. They stood a hair breath's away from one another. "I am your King! The choices I make should stand but you argue and refute them. I don't need a wife who questions my every move. It makes me look incompetent, like I don't know anything at all."

"I've seen the enemy camp! I've been a prisoner of Tywin Lannister. I stood in the same room as Cersei for much longer than you have," she pointed at him. "I should be allowed to voice my thoughts on the matter."

"Lord Bolton was right, the council meetings are no place for a woman," he ran his hand through his hair in a frustrated manner.

"And where is my place, Robb? I am more than just someone who will warm your bed! And listening to Lord Bolton above me," she snorted.

"He is one of my father's bannermen, my bannermen."

"There are other Lords who serve you - Greatjon, Lord Glover, Lord Karstark. Do not forget that it was Greatjon who named you his King. Harrion Karstark was the second to offer his sword to you. And what about the men who serve as your personal guards? I've heard that you've turned some of them away. Does Lady Dacey's opinion or that of Smalljon's not belong at your council meetings? Daryn Hornwood is Lord of Hornwood now. He should be respected. Instead he is still serving..."

"He wants to serve as a personal guard for me. And since we're on the subject of guards, I think you should select some guards to protect you. There's been rumors that..."

"That the Black Walder Frey is looking to kill me," she finished for him. "All the more so, you should leave me in charge of Harrenhal and take the Freys with you or send them to Riverrun. Your grandfather - and soon Edmure - is their liege Lord. They would know how to control them. Instead, you're letting Lord Bolton..."

"I will hear no more talk of Lord Bolton or House Frey," Robb demanded.

"Then at least let me speak to you about going with you," she pressed.

"Nysa..."

"Robb, they need to see your Queen is with you not locked up somewhere," she waved her hands dismissively. "And as mentioned before, we need to think about an heir."

"You want to talk about making an heir? Fine," he shouted before pulling her into his arms and kissing her roughly.

Nysa pushed at his chest, throwing her arms about him in protest. Their kissing grew furious, causing her to grow angry and aroused at the same time. She hated it. Gods, she hated it.

Suddenly the mood shifted, as Robb began to rip her clothes off of her body. He was angry - angry at her, at his mother, at the Lords, at everyone. And she was helping any. They argued every night - every damn night - about something that happened. Things weren't pleasant not in the least. He had bedded her in days - his own wife. She wouldn't refuse him now.

"It's too fast," she cautioned as he threw her naked body on the bed. "Robb..."

He silenced her with a kiss which turned into him biting his way down her body. Robb had never seen himself so consumed with this blind desire. His cock demanded that he take her, demanded that he make her his right now, show her who was King. He took off the remaining small clothes he had on and pumped his cock in his tight fist.

"Robb, wait," she put up her hands.

There was no waiting now. He grabbed onto her wrists and pushed them above her head.

"Stop."

"You wanted to make an heir," was his only reply before he kissed and bit down her body once more. She wasn't moaning the way that he wanted her to, she wasn't grabbing onto him the way he wanted her to. Instead she was pushing him away, demanding that they wait.

"Stop."

"No!"

"Robb, please," Nysa whimpered - this time in pain and fright.

He pulled back and looked down at her, face flushed and chest heaving - but not in passion. Deep inside her blue eyes stormed a rich violet. That was one of the tall tale signs that he knew she was upset and scared. He glanced down at their bodies and realized that he was about to bed her, unwillingly. She didn't want this. Yes, she had talked about an heir, but this isn't what she had in mind, not him pawing at her as though she were some common whore.

Robb pushed off of her, glancing down at his cock that had been prepared to enter her. Gods, he felt like a fool. She was his wife. Did he just attempt to force himself on his wife?

He saw that look in her eyes. She was frightened - frightened of him. What in the seven hells was wrong with him? He was such an ass.

Nysa felt tears threatening to spill forth. She and Robb hardly had love in their marriage at the moment. There was so much distrust, this lack of communication, her love for Torrhen and his Lords' demands that hung around the two of them, over them, taunting them both. She closed her eyes and felt the trickle of a tear down her cheek. She was paying the price for her actions now and it weighed heavily on her heart as Robb's breathing slowed down next to her. Shaking her head, she sprung up from the bed in search of her gown.

"Nysa," Robb sat up, sensing the distress coming off of her as she frantically dressed.

"Were you going to force yourself upon me just now?"

"No, I wasn't," he shook his head. "I would never do that, Nysa. Come back here and let us talk. You wanted to talk, right?"

She ignored him, causing him to shoot up out of the bed as well. He reached for her but she tore away from his grasp, taking a cloak and throwing the door open. Nysa was gone before he could reach her.

"What is it," asked Jon as he walked towards Meera.

She barely turned to him but kept her eyes on her brother. "Your brother, Brandon, is scared. He wants to come back but the Raven calls him."

"Raven," Jon questioned.

Meera nodded.

Jon didn't ask anymore questions. Instead he stood next to Meera Reed, both of them quiet and looking at Jojen as he sat still in the middle of the yard. His eyes were open but they were distant. Jojen didn't appear to be focusing on whatever was going on around him. It was a bit unsettling for Jon to watch, for any of the men to watch. Ghost came forward then, whimpering and pacing. Jon went to pat his wolf's head but the creature took off.

Ghost came to a halt in front of Jojen, starting to whimper and pace in front of the young Lord again. Something was happening that had made Ghost behave in such a strange manner. Jon couldn't pinpoint what it was. He waited with bated breath as the wolf watched Jojen before everything in the yard froze.

It happened slowly that Jon couldn't comprehend it. Ghost fell to floor, his body curled up once, then twice before spreading out.

"Ghost," Jon pulled out his sword and ran toward Jojen.

"It's okay," a voice halted him.

He shook his head, looking around in the yard but no one was there. He turned towards Jojen, staring him down. The young Lord still sat there, unaffected by the cool air. Ghost whimpered again, this time his front two paws flinched and kicked out.

"Jon."

He looked back at Jojen. "Bran, is that Bran?"

"Stay in the North, Jon," he heard his brother's voice.

"What is Bran? I don't hear anything," Meera ran to his side.

Jon shook his head and pointed to Jojen. "Your brother, he was talking to me."

"No, he wasn't," she shook her head.

"Stay in the North, Jon. She will need you here."

"She," Jon asked, looking at Jojen but his eyes were still vacant and void of expression. "Who is she?"

"Jon."

He turned to see Ghost laying down. His normal red eyes were replaced with a deep-blue eyes. Jon gasped, startled back and shook his head. Those eyes looked just like Bran's. It wasn't possible. He paced wildly back and forth in front of the direwolf. The last time he saw Bran, he was laying down in a bed. His eyes were closed. His eyes were closed.

"No," Jon shouted, turning back towards Ghost. "What is happening? Bran," he charged the wolf but nothing happened.

"Stay in the North, Jon. She will need you here."

"I still don't know who this 'she' it is that you are telling me about," he complained. "Is it Arya? Sansa? Bran, do you speak of them? Is it Nysa? Bran!"

Ghost quickly stood, shaking off his fur. He sat down, facing Jon - his eyes red once more.

Robb sighed as he strolled through the ruins of Castamere. He had sent a letter to Riverrun, hoping that by the time it arrived there, Nysa, his mother and his sister would arrive there as well. It was the first thing he did as he entered the Westerlands. He wanted to let them know that he was safe at the moment. Daryn, Dacey, Ser Perwyn and Smalljon kept their ever watchful eyes on him.

He also wanted to let Nysa know how much he missed her.

That was something he had not written in the letter.

Their relationship had changed somehow and he hated it. She wasn't present to send him off. Neither was his sister. His mother stood there with a soothing smile and assured him that the time apart may repair their marriage.

Gods, he was such a fool. But he didn't want to admit that to her. She had changed as well. There seemed to be so much defiance and anger. And he couldn't help but feel that lingering doubt whenever she talked to Harrion or Lord Karstark. She loved Torrhen - was probably still in love with him. Nysa didn't voice it out loud but he could see it. She was right. They had things to talk about. But he wouldn't let her talk and she wouldn't approve of his decisions. It was a useless battle when neither one of them was willing to give in.

"I am stubborn, aren't I," Robb reached for Grey Wind's head and scratched behind his ears. The wolf nudged Robb with his nose before laying down next to him. "We still have a long way to walk or are you tired of my company like our Queen," Robb joked externally but inside, he didn't like the way that he had parted from Nysa.

Grey Wind simply turned away and looked at another part of the castle. Even the wolf knew of the circumstances that plagued him. It was like Grey Wind could feel the frustration that he went through. At the same time, Grey Wind often projected Nysa's feelings - disappointment, upset and grief.

"I loved her. I still love her," Robb argued as Grey Wind went to lick his paws. "Are you going to ignore me as she does?"

The wolf turned his head, curling into his body and let out a deep breath.

"She is being too proud. And I know she might be right."

Grey Wind looked up at him, his wolfish eyes narrowing - almost the same way he saw it done with Nysa. Gods, he was arguing with a wolf. He sighed and shook his head, looking away and taking a deep breath to calm himself. And probably gain some bit of his sanity back.

"Okay, she is right," Robb conceded. "It was foolish of me to think I could bed her like she was some whore. She is my wife, my Queen."

No response from Grey Wind, so Robb continued.

"She is more than just someone to warm my bed. She knows about the other Lords. She listens to them. She doesn't dismiss their concerns, she simply gives them options so as to what fits best. She's seen the enemy camp, I know this. She's been at the Capital - something I've never done. But she's not a warrior, not a soldier," Robb argued. "She doesn't know battle strategy."

"And you do?"

Robb's head snapped around to see no one else there - other than he and Grey Wind. He reached slowly for his sword but Grey Wind's head turned towards him. He looked at the wolf and saw that his eyes had changed. It almost looked like...

"Bran," Robb asked.

"Work with her, Robb," he heard Bran's voice in his head. Robb took a step back, shaking his head and blinking his eyes.

"I don't understand," he walked away from Grey Wind, putting some much needed distance between the two. "I've gone mad."

"You need to work with her, Robb."

"Bran, how are you even speaking to..." he turned around but it was like Bran wasn't there. He wasn't present in Castamere in the first place but Robb had the strangest feeling that he was there, like he was connected to Grey Wind somehow. He rubbed his wolf's head, sighing in confusion. "He was here, wasn't he, boy?"

Grey Wind licked his hands before standing up, shaking his fur as though he had crawled through the dirt. He briskly walked forward before looking back at Robb, wondering why he was staying back. Robb glanced at the spot where Grey Wind was laying and then looked about the empty yard. He wasn't sure if he could believe it or not but it almost felt like Bran was alright, like he was well and safe.

"Bran is alive," he muttered. Grey Wind caught his eyes and it was like the wolf gave him a nod, to confirm his thoughts.

"A direwolf is our sigil," Robb answered proudly.

"That's right, my son," his father's hand fell on his shoulder. "Did you know that a direwolf has been known to form strong bonds with those of House Stark. The Winter Kings of old could command their wolves without saying or doing anything. They simply thought it and the Wolf would react. It was like they and their direwolf were one."

"How does it happen father?"

Ned Stark chuckled and patted his son's shoulder warmly. "I told you the Winter Kings of old had done that. It cannot happen now."

Somehow, Robb felt like it just did.

Lady Catelyn's smile remained on her face for quite some time. Arya rode on a horse next to her. And on the other end rode Nysa.

"There's so much water," Arya commented.

"This is Riverrun," Nysa replied.

"I know. I just never saw so much water, moving," she added. "Remember the Inn at the Crossroads?"

"Aye," Nysa answered with a frown on her face.

"That part of the river was smaller. I played alongside it," she paused and Nysa knew why. Catelyn looked at her daughter to see the same frown on Nysa's face etched on Arya's. "I remember you saying that not all of the guards that came from Winterfell with us knew how to swim. I'd have to rely on the King's men to save me."

Nysa gulped and nodded. "I did say that."

Arya laughed, causing both women to look at her with confusion. "Now that I think about it, I'd fake my drowning just so that I could lure them into the river and watch them float down the Trident. Look at that water flowing quickly," she nodded. "Can you imagine the Hound, gasping for air?"

"Arya," Catelyn scolded as Nysa laughed lightly.

"I hope I learn how to swim efficiently during my stay here," Arya ignored her mother as Nysa burst out in laughter that time.

Catelyn turned to her good-daughter and nodded her head. It was nice to hear the young woman laugh again. She and Robb were constantly arguing about one thing or another. And no doubt, Nysa being sent to Riverrun instead of traveling with Robb must have hurt the young Queen more than she was letting on.

"Do you know how to swim Mother," Arya asked.

"I haven't truly swam since I was a little girl. There are pools in Winterfell," Catelyn said and smiled lightly. The last time she swam in the pools of Winterfell, she was with her husband. They stayed close to the water's edge. What Nysa said was true, not many in the North knew how to swim. "The rivers here can be dangerous. If you both wish to go, you'll need guards with you," Catelyn responded as Nysa nodded.

Nysa turned behind her.

Harrion Karstark strode forward with Lyra Mormont and Ser Stevron Frey pulling up a small group of guards. Two of them were from House Karstark and the other two were Cayn and Wyl - House Stark's own guards. They had been Jory's close friends, helped Nysa and Arya escape the Capital. Of course, Nysa would have kept them close to her. Catelyn wondered at Ser Stevron's presence. Why hadn't he stayed back in Harrenhal or gone with the King? Nysa trusted him, that much was certain but it made Catelyn wary all the same. She had heard the rumors floating around the camp about what a few from House Frey were hoping to accomplish.

"We won't leave the Queen or the King's sister unattended, Lady Catelyn," Lyra Mormont bowed her head. "And unlike the two of them, I've learned to swim," she smiled at Nysa, who shook her head and turned to face forward.

"A group of guards approaches us," Jory called out from in front of them.

"House Tully," asked Harrion.

"They are from House Frey," Ser Stevron commented. "That is my brother, Aenys."

"A Targaryen name," Nysa turned to him.

"Aye," he nodded. "His sons were named Aegon and Rhaegar, after the King and crowned-Prince. Brother," he hailed Ser Aenys as they rode closer.

"Stevron," Ser Aenys nodded along with the other Frey soldiers present. "It is good to see you alive. We feared the worst when we heard news of your capture."

"I am alive and well - as is the rest of House Frey," Ser Stevron came alongside Nysa's horse, "thanks in a large part to this young woman here. She is our Queen."

There was a small pause of silence before Ser Aenys drew out his sword - recognition in his eyes. Nysa's eyes widened and she pulled on the reins of her horse to fall back. Jory, Cayn, Wyl, Harrion and Lyra all reacted as well. They pulled out their swords while some of them went to protect Catelyn and Arya. The other guards and Lords who had rode with them could be heard in the background - the hooves of their horses pounding as they hurried to their Queen.

"Stop this, she is our Queen," Ser Stevron shouted, putting his horse between Nysa's and his brother's.

"King Robb brought dishonor to our House by wedding this whore! What kind of son did you raise Catelyn Tully? Are not your words 'Family, Duty, and Honor'," Ser Aenys demanded.

Lyra began shouting at him, demanding that Nysa have his head for speaking such slander against not only her but Lady Catelyn as well. It was chaotic and Nysa appreciated the heavy presence of guards that were here to assist her. She noticed that Ser Aenys wasn't the only Frey who looked ready to run her through with a sword.

"Stop," she attempted but her voice was hoarse and shaky.

Her head whipped around in panic as other horses from both Riverrun and behind her rode up hard and fast.

"No, stop!"

She looked for Lady Catelyn but in the chaos, Jory had grabbed Nysa and pulled her onto his horse - ready to ride away from danger at that very moment.

"Where's Lady Catelyn? Where is Arya?"

She felt like she was being suffocated as Jory's hold on her tightened and he kicked his horse to go.

"No," she struggled, trying to get away. "Lady Catelyn!"

Try as she might, she was stuck to Jory as the other guards surrounded them. She still couldn't see Lady Catelyn or Arya. She wondered about the safety of Jory, Lyra and Harrion. She felt as though she were in the middle of battle. Her sword wasn't by her side. Torrhen's bow wasn't by her side. She didn't even carry Jory's dagger with her. She felt so lost as the panic and fear consumed her.

Nysa screamed - her hands and arms moving everywhere - anywhere to feel safe. There were shouts and commands to get the Queen to safety, protect Lady Catelyn and Princess Arya. Her heart was beating wildly. She felt so afraid, so frightened.

"Don't leave, Papa!"

Arms were holding her in place as she felt the warmth of the hand holding her own disappear. "Protect my daughter."

"No! Papa," her hands moved out in desperation.

The two memories collided and like a wild horse that had been trapped for so long, Nysa reached out her arms towards the Freys with swords in their hands. Anger, betrayal and viciousness in their eyes. It sent a chill down her spine, tickling the heat that spread through her body. It happened so quickly that she had no idea how it happened.

A large flame burst through and spread out through the wet-plains in front of Riverrun. Her mouth opened in a screech that deafened those around her. The heat filled her body as though it were running through her blood. It was hungry and thirsty, this heat inside of her. Nysa allowed it to burn brightly, screaming as the flames grew higher and hotter.

And when it was done, Nysa collapsed off her brother's horse in exhaustion, her body falling onto the ground.

"What happened out there," Jory questioned as Lady Catelyn stood up from his sister's bed.

"We can't talk of this, not now," Lady Catelyn admonished him.

"I know she's not my sister," Jory stepped forward.

"You're speaking foolishness," she turned away and knelt in front of Nysa's bedside, grabbing the damp, cool cloth and touching her good-daughter's forehead.

"Lady Catelyn," Jory slammed the door shut and held up a burnt and bloody cloth. "This is from one of the soldiers belonging to House Frey. He - unlike the other two guards - is still alive but he is not keeping quiet, no one is keeping quiet. What happened out there cannot be unseen. They are demanding to know what sort of witch their Queen is!"

"She is not a witch and you know that," she gave him a soured expression.

"I hardly know what she is," he replied, "or what that was outside. I need to know. You need to tell me."

"And what gives you the right to make such a demand fro me?"

"I promised to claim her as my sister, a promise I made to Lord Stark. Do you not remember that?"

***Flashback***

Lord Stark stepped forward towards Jory Cassel and noticed the young Rhaenys with him.

"She is a smart little thing," Jory said without looking up.

"Aye, she is."

"She escaped Lady Stark's nurses again," Jory smiled.

The first real smile Lord Stark saw since he came back to Riverrun without Jory's father, Ser Martyn Cassel. His brothers and mother had all died. Jory remained, minus his Uncle Ser Rodrick who said that Jory was head of their House now. They were loyal to House Stark. And he only wished to repay the boy with the same amount of unwavering loyalty.

The child dropped to the ground then. Her bottom hitting the dirt as she made a sound of pain before scrunching her eyes shut and lifted herself up. "She is a strong one, too," Jory commented as he stepped forward and took his father's sword from her. "And a sly one," he teased as the girl giggled before hiding by Lord Stark's legs. "Pretending to be innocent, only to disarm a guard," Jory chuckled.

"She seems quite taken with you," Ned noted. "It's been hard getting her to settle down with anyone."

And that was the truth of it. The girl would either be following Lady Catelyn around or if she did escape the nurses care, she'd wander about the camp until she found Lord Stark. Jory finding the need to occupy himself other than to let matters sadden him, would discover the girl running from the nurses and bring her back to Lady Stark's tent. But lately he had let the girl stay by him. His cousin had recently passed as well. His Uncle, Ser Rodrik was saddened and was looking to marry soon. Until then there was only Jory. He didn't like being alone and the men were sore company sometimes.

"May I keep her," he asked suddenly.

Ned tilted his head at Jory.

"I meant," Jory laughed nervously and then looked away, "forget it, my Lord."

"I did say if you have anything to ask of me, then just ask," Lord Stark told him.

"If you and Lady Stark wish to take her to Winterfell, then you can say that she is my sister," Jory turned back to Lord Stark.

"That is a huge responsibility, Jory. She may seem cute and obedient now but children take a lot of time and patience to raise."

"I know, my Lord. But its just that now, I'm going back to nothing. My father," Jory paused and felt his grief start to build then. A little hand touched his knee. He looked up to see the little girl there.

"Why sad," she replied.

Jory smiled sadly again at her before a hand went to his shoulder.

"It is a huge sacrifice on your part and I must admit, my wife and I did not think about what to tell others of who she is. But if you are certain, then you can claim her as your sister. Lady Stark and I will assist in raising her. She will be given all the attention in the world as though she were our own."

"You are too kind, my Lord."

"No Jory, it is you who are too kind."

Jory nodded to the girl again. "What do you call her?"

"Her name is," Ned paused and then looked towards Lady Stark's tent. "I cannot tell you her name, Jory."

Jory scoffed for a while. "It's probably some Southern name," he shook his head, "that will not do in the North." He contemplated for a while, looking at the girl. "Could I change your name to something Northern," he asked as the girl tilted her head in confusion. "I probably could," he nodded, "but then, then it would not explain your Southern looks."

Ned watched Jory look at the girl. The girl was looking back, babbling in response to whatever it was that Jory was telling her - as if they were having a conversation, as if they held some sort of understanding.

"I cannot think of anything," Jory announced suddenly, "but I will tell you this. You are my sister and I am your brother. Our father was a brave knight. We are from House Cassel. And House Cassel has been and always will be loyal to House Stark."

"Tak," she smiled before scrunching up her nose again.

"Close enough," he replied as Lord Stark continued to watch the interaction.

It was then that a throat cleared and the two of them looked up. Lord Stark looked a bit apprehensive while Jory sat there in fear. Lady Catelyn Stark eyed the two men before leaning down to pick the young child up.

"Nys," she cheered gleefully while showing Lady Stark her charming smile. "Aggy," she pointed to Jory then back to herself, "Nys!"

"My child, your name is..."

"Nysa Snow," Jory spoke up - the moment she said Nys, he knew what he would call her. "Forgive me, my Lady," he looked back to the ground again. "I merely wanted to spend time with my father's daughter."

Lady Stark looked towards her husband before turning back again towards Jory. "Are you..."

"Claiming her as my sister, yes," he answered. "The Starks have always treated our family well. My father," he took a deep breath, "he loyally served House Stark as his father had done before him. And I shall do the same. I wish to become captain of the guard as my father once was. This girl seems important and I know that a lot of people can't know why you and Lord Stark have her so I want to help. I have little to no family left, aside from my Uncle. And I would like to take care of the girl." Catelyn pierced him with his eyes. "With your permission of course, my Lady," he bowed.

"She is not a common child, Jory. I do not know if his Lordship has informed you about who her parents are."

Jory shook his head. "He has not, but she is to be kept hidden, correct? Then let me help you and Lord Stark," he pleaded, "let me take her in as my sister."

"I never questioned who she was, who her parents were or the House she came from," Jory continued. "That day I went back to Winterfell, my father and brothers, my own mother, they were all gone. All I had left was my Uncle and now he is gone too. I do not know about my cousin Beth. And this young woman - she has truly been like a sister to me. I love her, like a sister. I would die for her. She is all that I have left. But I still don't know who she is," he stated. "I think it is time you've told me."

Lady Catelyn wiped her face, tears threatening to spill from her eyes, remembering that journey from Riverrun to Winterfell, remembering her husband.

"There have been times where her anger turns her body hot. I've been burned twice before," Jory moved so that he was standing on the opposite end, facing Lady Catelyn. "I've seen her heal people with a blue flame. She told me that she healed Ser Stevron the same way she healed Lady Umber, Lord Glover's son and Lord Karstark's daughter."

"What is your point, Jory?"

"Because this time she conjured fire out of nowhere," his voice raised and Lady Catelyn sprung to her feet, rushing over towards him.

"Quiet down, you hear!"

"No, I will not be quiet," Jory argued. "All those other times, there was a fire burning in the hearth, a candle or a torch nearby. She moved the fire with her hands," he glided his hands across the air. "But this time, there was no other flames present - other than the one coming forth from her!"

"It's a gift to heal, she has the gift of healing," Catelyn shook her head.

"That was not healing out there on the plains," Jory interjected. "You knew something like this would happen, didn't you? You knew it was possible?"

Catelyn turned around and bent down to touch Nysa's hot forehead. "Ned told me who she was when he brought her home. He told me that no one could know, that it meant her life so she was kept hidden."

"And I've done all that I can to make her my sister, keep her safe. I wouldn't betray her."

"You don't know how grateful I was that day when you claimed her. I had no idea how we would keep her safe, no idea how we were to raise her," she looked up at Jory with grief written across her wet face.

"We raised her to be a Lady."

"But she isn't a Lady," Catelyn sobbed.

"Nysa is not from a great House in the South?"

She took a deep breath before peering down at the young woman on the bed. "Ned wrote to me, from King's Landing, before he was arrested," Lady Catelyn explained, "told me that I should tell her when the time is right. Her mother and father," she shook her head.

Abruptly she stood up, catching Jory off guard. She stared at him hard, with determination in her eyes.

"What I'm about to tell you Jory, cannot leave this room."

"I've protected her from the moment Lord Stark brought her home," Jory replied. "I will continue to do so. Her secret is safe with me."

Lady Catelyn soothed her hand over the young woman's face one last time before moving to stand by the window, overlooking the rivers around her childhood home. "We waited here for Lord Stark to return, do you remember that, Jory? It was so long ago," she continued without giving Jory a chance to answer. "Ned had marched down to the Capital with my father's men, men from House Stark. And the night he returned to me, he returned with two children - one of them was Jon. The other was that young woman right there," she looked over her shoulder towards the bed.

***Flashback***

They entered the room to see the nurses attempting to calm the little girl. Her dark brown hair wet from the tears on her face. The second she saw Lord Stark, she reached out for him.

"Lya," she reached for him.

Catelyn recognized the name for a moment and wondered how the little girl came to be in her husband's care.

"Leave us," Catelyn told the nurses.

Ned waited until every last one of them left to turn to his wife. "She was with Lyanna," Ned stated, "when I found her. She kept asking for her Papa. She," he shook his head, "she wouldn't leave Lyanna's side, even after..."

"I am sorry, husband," she touched his arm. "I know you went there to find her, bring her back home. I am so sorry," she repeated as he leaned his forehead against hers.

"Lya," she pointed to Catelyn.

"No, child," Lord Stark replied adjusting the girl. "This is Lady Catelyn. She is my wife."

"No papa," she looked around the room.

"There's no papa here," Ned shook his head slightly.

"Mama," the child's lip began to tremble.

"Child..."

"Mama! Papa! Throne!"

"I think she said throne," Catelyn interjected.

"Papa, Aggy, on throne," she insisted reaching her hands out in the air.

"She did say it."

"Aggy, throne," she sniffed, tears running down her small face. "Back to throne!"

"Oh," Catelyn felt sadness and took the girl in her arms, comforting her in a way that only a mother could. "Ned who is she?"

Ned looked around and pulled her further into the room, away from the door. "She's Princess Rhaenys Targaryen," he whispered.

"Ned," Catelyn almost screeched and looked back at the door. Her husband moved her again. "What is she doing here? Why did you bring her here to Riverrun? Why is she with you? Why..."

"Her mother is dead," Ned replied. "I thought," he shook his head and looked down. "I thought I could bring her to the Capital, back to her mother."

"Jon Arryn told my father what happened at King's Landing."

"Did he," Ned gritted his teeth. "Did he tell you of how Lord Tywin sacked the Capital? How the Lannister men killed Prince Aegon? He was but a boy and they stabbed him," Ned turned around and looked out a nearby window. "The men paraded his body around as a trophy! That was nothing compared to the fate of Princess Elia. How was I to return her daughter to that madness? I couldn't do it! I just couldn't! As much anger and hatred as I have towards that family for killing my father, killing Brandon," he stated as Catelyn walked towards him. "I couldn't bring myself to subject this little girl to such a thing. I couldn't."

"I understand," she touched his arm. "But Robert will be King. They say that..."

"I tried to reason with him but he is in the pit of lions now. He is to wed a Lannister."

"Would you not return to see him..."

"See him begin his rule as King with the murder of innocent children," he questioned with a loud tone as Catelyn took a step back. "Forgive me, Cat," he closed his eyes and opened an arm for her to come into. "I did not mean to take my frustration out of you."

"You've lost your father, brother and now your sister," she replied. "It seems as though you have lost a friend as well."

"He was like a brother to me," Ned whispered and leaned his chin against the top of her head. "I thought he would, thought he would listen to me. He cannot know about the Princess. She'll die."

"We will take her home with us then," Catelyn stepped back and looked at the girl in her arms. "We'll hide her in the North, keep her safe."

Jory stared at the bed, his eyes wide.

If Robert Baratheon had known that she was alive, would he have killed her - a small child? She dined in the same halls as King Robert - the man who had killed her father in battle. She had stood in the same room as the man who had killed her father. And yet, Lord Stark had kept her safe. His sister was taken by her father but he kept her safe. His father and brother were murdered by her grandfather but he kept her safe.

"She's a Targaryen," he said softly, still confused and in awe.

"She's innocent. Ned," Lady Catelyn paused. "Ned knew there was no honor in killing a child. He spared her, took her and raised her." There was another paused before she finished, "you helped us to raise her."

Jory had been helping to raise a Princess, a Princess who had a claim to the Iron Throne. That's why Lord Stark had been so determined to take her South, to take her to the Capital. He wanted her to see where she had been born, where she belonged. He remembered her standing next to Lord Stark in the throne room. She looked like she belonged there.

This entire time, Jory shook his head. This entire time he had seen her running around the wolfwoods, getting into trouble with the Stark kids, meeting other Lords and Ladies from great Houses in the North, playing with their children, laughing among Northmen as though she were one of them. The truth of the matter was that she was a Southern Princess.

Lord and Lady Stark made sure that she was raised as a Lady, made sure that she was treated as a high-born. They never tolerated her being belittled. They demanded that she eat with them at the high table, that she take lessons with their daughters and sons. She was always introduced as Lady Nysa. Lord Stark made sure the North loved her. She in turn came to love the North. A Princess to the Iron Throne loved the North, lived in the North and now she is their Queen.

Lady Catelyn came back to his side and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"She truly is a Queen," Jory whispered.

"Aye," she replied. "And I want to thank you, Jory. Thank you for keeping her safe."

I dropped the long-anticipated bomb on that one. If you haven't figured it out already. Nysa Snow is Princess Rhaenys Targaryen.

In this story, Rhaenys is the younger of Rhaegar and Elia's children. I flipped her age around with Aegon, making her closer to Robb and Jon's age. And yes, Prince Rhaegar took his daughter to the Tower of Joy. That is how Lord Stark found her. I always wondered what would happen if it was Rhaenys who survived and not Aegon.

Though I know it would be easier for House Targaryen if it were Aegon, being that he is a male and would carry on their family name. And yes, I had her favor of the Martell looks - like the tanned skin and dark hair. If Jon (following the R+L=J theory, which I plan to do *spoiler alert*) favors House Stark instead of House Targaryen, then I wanted the same with Nysa. She does have blue eyes though but when she is mad, turn violet.

Let me know what you think about this reveal...

Also, because I love House Stark, there will be more talk about the direwolves. I decided that the bond they have will change. Bran, Arya and Jon were said to be able to see through their wolves. I wanted Bran to be able to speak through them. He says things to Summer and then it relates to Ghost and Grey Wind - from direwolf to direwolf. Call it magic.

Let me know what your thoughts are of that...