Chapter 23

Lyra Mormont had rarely left Nysa's side - especially since the attack upon her arrival. Many of those from House Frey stayed away from her. She thought it was Ser Stevron who ensured her safety. Instead, Lyra and Harrion - along with Lady Catelyn - explained that Nysa had scared them away with flames.

She wouldn't believe them. She always needed fire and only used it for healing. It was a gift; Lord Stark had told her. Now, she was learning that House Frey had called her the 'Queen Wolf who breathes fire'. She laughed the title off but Harrion had argued with her about it. He wanted her to use it to her advantage. Harrion and Waylyn wouldn't be able to watch her all the time. And there was only so much that Lyra or Jory could do. If several guards decided to become traitors, a rumor that she could breathe fire would definitely help her.

It had been a couple days since her arrival. After waking, she was ready to explore and visit with Lord Tully. She watched him and Lady Catelyn talk quietly and she wondered if she should use her 'breath of fire' to heal him.

"It doesn't always work that way, does it," Lyra asked as they walked the balconies, overlooking the water. "Your gift," she clarified.

Nysa shook her head. "I wanted to use it to save Bran Stark. Instead, he stayed asleep. I've seen it not only heal but sometimes restore what was lost."

She turned towards Lyra, causing the two of them to stop. Waylyn and Wyl - who were additional guards on duty, paused a discreet distance away. They were assigned to guard her but not to listen in on private conversations - according to Jory.

"The one incident that majority of the North knows of is when I saved Lady Umber. She had some sort of illness - it was spread throughout her body, like a disease, a plague that only she had," Nysa described. "I felt it in her blood. In her blood," Nysa looked frightened as Lyra's brows furrowed in confusion. "Her body was weak, bruised and unstable. I don't know how else to describe it. Ser Stevron had the same sort of illness. They said that nothing could save Lady Umber. And if I hadn't gotten to Ser Stevron in time, the same could be said of him. But you've seen him. And you've seen Lady Umber. Tell me, do they appear to have some sort of sickness?"

Lyra turned her head towards the river and looked out over the water.

"It didn't just take away the sickness. It gave them back something they had lost, something healthy. Lady Sarra was able to bear Lord Umber three more children after that. Ser Stevron fights as well as any of the other knights that are present - perhaps better," Nysa went on as Lyra looked back at her. "It changes something."

"And you wanted to not only heal Bran Stark but help him to walk again, is that it?"

Nysa nodded. "But it didn't work out that way, it didn't work on him at all. I shouted and screamed and almost threw the torch on his bed, just to get the fire to do something - anything," Nysa sighed. "I couldn't do it then. I don't know how it happens or why it chooses to work on some and not others."

Lyra touched her friend's shoulder and smiled comfortingly. "I still believe it to be a gift. If it was a curse, it wouldn't have restored anything to Lady Umber or Ser Stevron. It wouldn't have saved two children of the North, either."

"You know about that?"

"I heard how you saved Gawen Glover and Alys Karstark from Dacey. She told me that the Maester couldn't do anything for them, but you did," Lyra pointed out. "I think that this is a gift from the Gods, Nysa. They allow you to do something that no Maester can learn."

"And what happened out there," Nysa gestured with her head outside of Riverrun, "when I killed men with that fire? Can it be considered a gift from the Gods then?"

"Those men wanted to attack you," Lyra smiled. "And it's not like you slaughtered thousands, Nysa."

"Two men loss their lives. And for what reason," Nysa shook her head.

"To keep the Queen of the North and of the Trident safe," Lyra finished. "Every guard, every soldier, every man who lifts a sword in battle knows that the outcome for him may be death during the battle. A soldier's life is not one of ease and good-health. They knew life was at risk if they drew their blade against their Queen."

"I hardly feel like their Queen," she commented. "Our relationship with House Frey is shaky at best. Many of them are at Harrenhal, some are here, and others are with Robb. But I can guarantee you that Lord Walder Frey would summon them all back if he felt slighted. And considering the reaction I received from his sons and the guards who served them," Nysa shook her head, "I can only imagine what would happen then."

"Did you not hear what they say of you, the Wolf Queen who breathes fire," Lyra laughed and jokingly pushed Nysa's shoulder. "If something should ever happen, you could create a wall of fire around you."

Nysa snorted. "I told you, I don't know how it happens or why."

"Well then, my Queen," Lyra bowed, "isn't that why you have me here? I'll cut off the cocks of any man who dare threaten the Wolf Queen."

"Lyra," Nysa scolded.

"What, I'm a bear of the North."

They both laughed lightly. Lyra took Nysa by the arm and they continued walking the halls. Nysa was glad for her friend's sense of humor in this moment. She still worried about House Frey. But for right now, she would enjoy laughing away her cares.

Behind them, Waylyn smiled at seeing the Queen's good mood. He pushed back from his position on the wall, before gesturing for Wyl to follow along.

Robb stood next to Daryn, Dacey and Smalljon as they watched Ser Merlon Crakehall lift Stark banners amongst his men. They had learned that Edmure had captured both Lord Crakehall and his second-born son. The eldest died in King's Landing during the Battle at Blackwater. That was one of the reasons why Ser Merlon Crakehall - the youngest of Lord Crakehall's sons was here, swearing fealty to Robb - to ensure that his father and brother would be safe.

"We have some men coming from King's Landing, your Grace," Ser Merlon rode towards him then. A serious and grim expression on his face.

"I know this isn't easy for you, Ser. Thank you," Robb replied.

"Of course, this isn't easy," Ser Merlon gritted through his teeth. "I'm betraying House Lannister. My father was one of Lord Tywin's commanders. My eldest brother went to defend the Red Keep from traitors and would-be Kings. And now I've just given up my House and our men to fight for your cause!"

Daryn and Smalljon went forward but Robb stopped them. "As I mentioned earlier, I know exactly how you feel. I brought men from the North to fight for my father, to protect my sisters," Robb pointed out, "to let everyone know that the North remembers. And the North will always remember how a spoiled boy beheaded an honorable and just man because he felt like it."

"My King," Ser Perwyn called out to him, his horse riding fast.

The guards beside Robb went to move again, forming a blockade. Ser Perwyn brought his horse to a halt and gestured to the men behind him.

"My King, I bring to you Ser Flement Brax - wed to my sister, Morya," Perwyn explained. "We hold his brother, Ser Tytos. With the death of their father, Ser Tytos has become their Lord and heir."

"Aye," Robb nodded in acknowledgement.

"They've ridden here to bend their knee."

Dacey narrowed her eyes at him. "What are you not telling us," she questioned him.

Ser Perwyn shook his head before standing before Robb. "The Crag will bend the knee but Lady Westerling is asking that you come there to accept her surrender. And like Ser Merlon, she is asking to send her son and daughter with us back to Riverrun."

"I don't like this," Smalljon mentioned to Robb in a hushed tone. "We have enough men here in Castamere to defend ourselves and protect you, my King. But this much men from the Westerlands in your Realm?"

Robb sighed. "It seems that my Uncle holds many of them prisoner in Riverrun. They want to see their Lords."

"We must err on the side of caution, your Grace," Smalljon added. "We didn't want any of them in the North. Bringing them to the Riverlands - where your mother, sister and your wife are may prove disastrous."

"I must agree with Smalljon," Daryn nodded towards him. "We've gotten one of your sisters back. And now you have a wife to consider. You must think of their safety."

"And with no word of Winterfell, it best that Riverrun be considered a certain place of safety for our Queen," Smalljon spoke.

"What both of you say is true," Robb considered for a moment before turning towards Dacey. "What about you Lady Dacey?"

"The thought of bringing more men - men who have fought for House Lannister - to Riverrun does have its concerns. First, I think we must speak to Lady Westerling," Dacey replied, "let her know that we cannot take more men that what we've decided is safe. They could turn on us and then we'll have nothing left to do but put their Lords to the sword. You want this to end, don't you, my King?"

"I do," he nodded. "Yes, we will see Lady Westerling first."

Lady Jayne Bracken had agreed to travel with Nysa as one of her Ladies. She noted quickly that Nysa had to build relations with the river Lords. They knew - and respected - the King because he is the grandson of Lord Tully. House Tully had been serving as their Lord Paramount of the Trident since Aegon had conquered Westeros.

"The King has gained respect for being kin, but there has to be," Jayne paused.

"There has to be," Lyra questioned.

"There has to be more, my Queen," Jayne finished. "There is a rumor that King Joffrey has made Lord Baelish the Lord of Harrenhal, and for his service," she paused again, "he is the Lord Paramount of the Trident."

"How can that be when Robb is the King? Did not the river Lords swear fealty to him," Nysa asked.

"They have, we all have," Jayne nodded her head. "Right now, King Joffrey still believes that the Trident belongs to him. It is merely a title that they have given Lord Baelish. The actual promise, work, all of it," Jayne listed, "it's more than just a name. There's action involved in it. And as I said, House Tully has commanded our allegiance. King Robb must show us why we swore fealty to him."

"That's a pretty bold thing to say to her Grace," Lyra narrowed her eyes.

Jayne turned towards Nysa. "Isn't that why you asked me to become one of your Ladies? To share with you the concerns of the Riverlands? You know the North. You were raised there. The Northern Houses and their Lords hold nothing but admiration for you - minus one or two," she titled her head back and forth. "But you need to do more for the Riverlands, my Queen."

"House Darry has pledged their allegiance to me. So, has House Bracken," Nysa nodded.

"But the others need to see you as their Queen," Jayne commented. "What can you and King Robb do that will protect us, help us, nurture us?"

Nysa thought about it for a moment and nodded in agreement. Lady Catelyn had told her to choose at minimum three young Ladies to help her, guide her. So far, Jayne had been an excellent choice. She was bold and outspoken - the same way as Lyra. And though the two would often clash - their main objective was to ensure that Nysa succeeded as their Queen. And once both had pointed that out - they seemed to let arguments slide every now and then.

What Jayne had indicated was true. Nysa had been so worried about being 'seen' as the Queen in the Westerlands that she didn't grow to learn as much as she could about those in the Riverlands. Young Lord Lyman Darry had said that she was his Queen. But that meant little if the other Lords - who were twice or three times his age - could not see her the same. There was a lot of work to do and she tried not to let it overwhelm her. It was exhausting work getting to know the Houses in the Riverlands. She didn't want them to think that they had been taken for granted - especially since Robb's actions as of late showed he held little concern for House Frey.

Lyra pulled out a sword and tugged the two women behind her.

"What is it," Jayne looked around warily.

"The men up ahead," Lyra gestured. "There's a fight. I should get you and the Queen out of here." She turned around to see Cayn and Wyl approaching fast to aid her.

"Those are men from House Karstark," Nysa pushed her way pass.

"My Queen," Wyl shouted after her to return.

"I must see."

Nysa's heart beat faster, at seeing majority of them with swords in their hands and shouting curses and insults. Did someone harm Harrion? Or was Lord Karstark injured in some way? She hurried quicker for she couldn't lose them. She wasn't certain what she'd do if she loss them as well.

"Stop it," she yelled as Waylyn turned.

An angered expression was on his face at first. Upon seeing their Queen, he relaxed and began pushing the men on the side to get their attention as well. Nysa didn't want a repeat of what happened outside of Riverrun but the way the men pushed and shoved at one another, caused her some distress. She shouldn't have put herself in the middle of this, but she wanted to make sure that Harrion and Lord Karstark were safe.

"What is going on," Nysa questioned as the men stopped. "Is your Lord under attack? I demand to know what is the cause of this!"

"A Lannister!"

The guards parted ways as Nysa saw Lord Karstark throw a body down onto the ground.

"Lannister's killed my sons and now the Lannister's should pay!"

The men began to shout in agreement.

"I want this boy's body to hang!"

Nysa's eyes turned sharply at the body and noted quickly that this was indeed a boy - a young man, probably the same age as Arya or Bran. Bran, she thought. The men began to grab the boy and Nysa watched in horror as another body was pulled out from behind Lord Karstark. There were two. She shook her head and met Harrion's gaze.

"No!"

"Move, girl," Lord Karstark bellowed at her.

Some of the guards started to grab her, panic filled her eyes. Harrion was the first one there, dragging them off her. Waylyn pushed them back as well, telling them to back off their Queen.

"Any man who stands between a father and his vengeance asks for death!"

Nysa moved forward. "It's a good thing then, that I am your Queen!"

"Queen," he snorted. "You would have been Torrhen's wife or did you so quickly forget about that?"

"How dare you! I love your son, Lord Karstark. I love him with every fiber of my being. Why do you think the King has sent me here? Why do you think I'm not by his side," she shouted, not caring who heard about her distress. "Even he knows that my love for Torrhen still burns!"

"If you really did love my son, you'd get out of my way!"

"Killing these boys won't bring him back," she shouted. "They're mere boys!"

"They're Lannisters!"

"I beg of you, Lord Karstark," Nysa gripped the young Lannister to her chest.

"Move, girl!"

He went to lift his sword again, but she lifted her chin in defiance and continued to hold the child. "It was not him who swung the blade. It was not him who took Torrhen away! You are not the only one who wants vengeance for his death! Please, Lord Karstark!"

The sword came down and Nysa turned her head and closed her eyes. A moment of silence fell upon them and quickly looked at the boy in her arms and the other laying a few feet away, ensuring they were unharmed. She gasped as she saw Lord Karstark thrown back on the ground.

"As you said, father," Harrion stood next to her. "She would have been Torrhen's wife!"

Nysa looked up with grateful eyes towards Harrion.

"You stand by..."

"I do," Harrion didn't give his father time to finish. "She saved Alys. She saved mother. There is no one here who has more love for our House than our Queen. She wants vengeance as much as you do. But she wants the Kingslayer, father. Nysa is right. Our Queen is right," he looked around as the angered faces panted in rage. "The Kingslayer is the one who took them away. She won't let him go."

Lord Karstark spat on the ground. "Lady Stark let him go."

"I am not Lady Stark," Nysa stood slowly. "I am your Queen and if the Gods listened to my prayers, I would have been your good-daughter. I know you thirst for blood. I know you hunger for death who have caused your House harm. Believe me when I saw that I do as well. Lord Stark always told me that the North remembers. And I will never forget Torrhen or House Karstark," her lips trembled. "You will get your justice, Lord Karstark."

She paused and turned to look at the young man on the ground.

"But not today and not by killing these boys," Nysa stood taller and whirled around to stare Lord Karstark in the eyes.

There was still anger and hatred in them as he looked from her towards the two Lannisters. He sighed in frustration before gesturing towards some of the guards to follow him. Crisis wasn't truly averted. Nysa noticed that a few of them murmured insults about her promiscuity. She tried her best to ignore them. The rest who stayed behind nodded towards her - a sign of respect.

"They believe that you'll bring justice forth," Harrion stated.

"Thank..."

He turned around to face her, towering over her form as she stood still and waited for his censure. "Torrhen was the first to saddle his horse. Torrhen was the one who rode quickly towards Winterfell we got the raven. My father answered the call to defend Lord Eddard Stark, the call to defend the North. But it was Torrhen who wanted to come here for you."

"I know," Nysa looked down and felt the tears fall from her eyes.

"If my father loses faith in that, then he'll lose faith in you. I hope what you said is true, Nysa. The North remembers."

Harrion left her side then, the rest of House Karstark's guards trailing behind him. She closed her eyes in relief as they all departed. Waylyn stayed behind to make sure that she was alright.

"You look pale, my Queen."

"I am alright, Waylyn. Thank you," she nodded towards him.

Waylyn didn't stay long. He barely bothered to help her pick up the two Lannister boys. She didn't blame him. Lyra came to her side and said that House Karstark should be punished for disrespecting their Queen. Nysa decided against it. She thought of Lady Mariah and Alys - who were back North. She heard about the rumors of the Ironborn taking over. There was also no word yet from Lord Bolton regarding his son and the condition of Winterfell. She knew these were distressing times. Any man - even a strong, proud one like Lord Karstark - would have their moments of weakness.

Jayne scrunched up her nose before assisting Nysa with guiding the boys towards the prison they were in. It was hard to help the Lannisters - after what they had done. Jayne reminded her of that. They had destroyed many homes in the Riverlands, including House Bracken. She pointedly reminded Nysa that she and Catelyn were taken from their home by Lannister men, they were prisoners in a Lannister camp.

"And a Lannister helped me to protect you and your sister," Nysa retorted.

"A Lannister would never help those in the Riverlands! Especially since Lady Catelyn took Lord Tyrion and the young Wolf holds Ser Jamie!"

Jayne marched up towards them. "That is where you are wrong! Lannister men tried to kill Lady Catelyn's son. She was merely protecting her own! And here in the Riverlands we defend our children. What House Lannister did was an act of war!"

"You're nothing but a girl! You wouldn't know!"

"I know far more than you!"

"Stop this," Nysa insisted as Jayne huffed and marched out of the prison. "Have you ever been told that it's easier to lure a bee with a sweet flower?"

"And you could easily swat that bee as well," he replied. "What's your point?"

"The point is that this is the Queen of the North and the Trident," Lyra stepped forward. "You do well to show her respect. She just saved your life."

"It certainly wouldn't be the first Lannister I saved," Nysa looked back at Lyra before looking at the two young boys in front of her. "Now that you know who I am, who might you be?"

"Willem," he answered. "Your Grace," he quickly said after the other boy nudged him.

It was obvious that the one farthest in the back heard Lyra's threat. Either that or he quieted down because he saw Lyra's hand on the hilt of her sword.

"There is no need to be so formal with me, Willem," she touched the wound on his forehead, calculating how to tend to it. "And who is your father?"

"Ser Kevan," Willem answered as Nysa's hand paused midair.

"I saw your father in Harrenhal. Why were you not there with him?"

"We had already been captured," the other boy spoke up. Nysa nodded to him. "Martyn, your Grace," he bowed his head.

"Your brother," she gestured to Willem. Martyn confirmed with a small nod. "I met your older brother, Lancel, in King's Landing. He served as a squire for King Robert," she smiled lightly. "He, he was a serious young man - always hoping to gain the King's approval and your father's."

"My father thinks him useless," Martyn said as Willem turned towards him with an irritated expression.

"Every man has their worth," Nysa said. "Now, I will leave the two of you. Someone will be back to look after those wounds and see that you have a meal."

Just as Nysa turned to exit their cell, one of them called out to thank her and called her 'my Queen'.

The night wore on and it appeared the men were truly enjoying themselves. Robb still felt uneasy about being here and partaking in such activities that Lady Sybell Westerling had prepared for them. Both Daryn and Smalljon had refused to drink the wine here. They had that eerie feeling as well. Ser Perwyn - along with a couple others - was singing with his hand around a maid in his lap. He seemed to be the only one who didn't think that something was odd.

Robb was preparing to retire for the night when he felt a hand tap his shoulder. He turned to see a young woman standing there with Ser Rolph Spicer - Lady Westerling's brother.

"Ser Rolph," Robb bowed his head.

"Your Grace," Ser Rolph nodded, "I don't believe you have met my niece, Lady Jeyne Westerling. She is Lord Gawen's eldest daughter."

"My Lady," Robb bowed his head slightly.

"Your Grace," the young woman smiled before dipping into a low curtsy. "I hope you are enjoying yourself, my King. Have you had enough to drink? Perhaps you would like another cup of wine," she offered, looking up through her lashes.

Robb noticed how she blinked them slowly - almost as though she were trying to seduce him. He shook his head and looked away. "I'm thinking of retiring for the night. Thank you, my Lady."

"You haven't seen our shores, yet, my King," Ser Rolph stopped him from turning away. "Jeyne, would you be so kind to show his Grace the shoreline. He may find it relaxing."

"It is quite alright," Robb protested.

"I insist," Ser Rolph nudged his niece forward.

Robb sighed before reluctantly holding up his hand, gesturing for Lady Jeyne to lead the way and he would follow. Once they were through the doors, he dismissed Smalljon and Daryn. The nearest castles were Banefort and Ashemark. Currently, Robb held those castles. Men from both Banefort and Ashemark had pledge their fealty to Robb. He was in no serious danger.

Slowly he walked through the halls, noticing the light on the young woman's body in front of him. He cursed himself. Why was he noticing such a thing? He was a married man.

"Are you alright, my King?"

Robb's head snapped up to see the young woman peering over her shoulder.

"You seem distracted. I hope that I haven't done anything to catch you unawares," she said turning around slowly to face him.

"I'm thinking of my wife, that's all." He might as well put that out there, right now while he was at it. He gestured again for her to continue leading the way but instead she came forward and stood near enough for him to feel her warmth.

"She must be quite the woman to have wed such a good King as yourself," Jeyne said.

"She is. But I wouldn't know about me being a good King."

"I think you are."

"Thank you. That is kind of you to say."

"And completely true, if I may be so bold," she replied with a nice smile. "I have heard many stories of how deserving you are of the crown."

"You've been keeping track of my short rule," he lifted an eyebrow at her.

Jeyne laughed lightly, and the sound carried to his ears. He tried to stamp it out. But it felt nice to have a young woman flirt with him. "I ask about you whenever I send ravens to other Ladies in other Houses. Their Lord fathers say the same," she took another step forward. "I want to know what kind of man you are."

"How thoughtful of you."

Her fingers reached out and skimmed Robb's arm. "Yes, well my thoughts are always on how I can please my King," she said in a dangerously low and seductive tone.

"I think you are being too familiar with me," Robb took a step back and stared the young woman down. She didn't cower or shy away. Instead she smiled brightly and nodded her head.

"Perhaps we shall have another conversation much later," her voice carried over to him. He gulped and shook his head, looking at anything other than her. Jeyne looked down before turning down the pathway and out of the hallway. Just before she left, she peered over her shoulder and looked at him. "Your wife need never know that you and I spend time together. Neither will she know how much you enjoy it. A thought that I hope you keep in mind."

Nysa paused and shook her head, the dizziness wearing off as she blinked her eyes. That had been happening a lot lately as she took her daily walk through Riverrun - greeting the various Lords and guards who were there. She made sure to understand who her subjects were. It was an important detail that Jayne had pointed out to her. Two days after the rescue of the Lannister boys, Jayne finally approached Nysa - apologizing for being so rude but not to expect her assistance if it came to the Lannisters that were prisoners.

"Who was that guard that I saw you speaking to earlier," Nysa asked Jayne.

Jayne blushed causing Nysa to pause in their walk. "He's not a guard."

"Then, who is he?"

"Brynden Blackwood, Lord Blackwood's son and heir."

Nysa nodded and continued walking. She had not met Lord Blackwood yet. Many of them were still on the battlefield with Robb or on patrol with Edmure. She had been here for nearly a moon's time and still there was no 'Edmure'. She wondered what he was doing. Perhaps amassing more prisoners for the Riverlands, Nysa thought and sighed heavily. She didn't need to see more captured boys.

Earlier, they had caught three more young Lannister boys. She had heard from Lady Catelyn that her brother, Edmure, boasted and paraded them through the courtyard before throwing them in the cells. He vowed to catch every Lannister child and that had angered Nysa. She went there to speak with Edmure but found that he had already left Riverrun to attack the Westerlands again.

"The two of you appeared to be in an argument," Lyra stated, pulling Nysa out of her musing.

"Our Houses have never agreed on anything, they've always fought against the other," Jayne answered. "Brynden and I, we," she paused and shook her head, "we were merely discussing the importance of House Frey's loyalty to the Queen."

"It is shaky at best," Nysa nodded. "Does Brynden have any thoughts that seem practical?"

"Not really," Jayne responded. "Just concerns, your Grace," she said before turning towards Nysa. "One of Lord Frey's sons is married to a Lannister - Lord Tywin's sister to be exact. They've captured her son, Tion."

"He is one of the boys they brought in this morning," Lyra looked at Nysa.

"Do you think that Lord Frey will respond, knowing that we have one of his grandsons as prisoner instead of..."

"I think that you have cause to worry, my Queen," Jayne replied before she could finish. "I trust," another pause as she glanced over her shoulder quickly. "I trust Brynden, your Grace. He said his father would fight for you, regardless of what House Frey decides. King Robb was able to give many of us back our homes. But with as many sons and daughters that he has, he also has many kin who fight for House Lannister."

Nysa sighed again and felt that overwhelming dizzy sensation nag at her again. She closed her eyes and swayed a bit before Lyra steadied her. "Nysa?"

"I am alright," she touched Lyra's hand before shaking her head again. "There's just so many decisions to make, so many Lords to meet and placate."

"Isn't that why I'm here," Jayne smiled at her, "to help advise you?"

"It is," Nysa nodded before she turned to see Lady Catelyn walking towards her. Several guards surrounded her and for a moment, Nysa wondered why. She thought she made it clear that at Riverrun there was no need to keep Lady Catelyn - who had been acting as Lady of Riverrun - as a prisoner. "Thank you, Desmond. You are all dismissed for today."

"But the King..."

"The King is not here," Nysa snapped. "Please leave Lady Catelyn to me," she said in a gentler tone, nodding to each guard as they left. "Lady Catelyn," Nysa gave a small but quick curtsy. "I haven't seen you for some time. Is your father well?"

"That's why I sought you out. My father," she paused and looked down. "My Uncle has just spoken with him now."

Nysa smiled lightly. "That's good. You were hoping that they'd reconcile."

"Yes, I..."

Lady Catelyn seemed apprehensive to finish her statement. She didn't appear as composed as she normally was. Though these were troublesome times and most suppers were filled with worry - worry for Robb, worry for Bran and Rickon, worry for Sansa, and lately worry for the reason why Arya was spending so much time in the yard with the smith. Right now, it looked as though the worry were hundred-fold and that was of great concern for Nysa. She didn't want Lady Catelyn to become disheartened.

"We will give the two of you some privacy," Lyra said as she bowed her head and turned away. Jayne did the same, except with a curtsy.

Looking about the yard, she noticed that a few of the House Tully guards were distraught. Nysa stepped forward to ask what was happening. Before she could open her mouth, a bell began ringing loudly. Nysa looked around again in panic. Were they under attack? What had happened?

Lady Catelyn dropped to her knees then and began to sob. Nysa fell to meet her good-mother and hold her in her arms. She held Lady Catelyn close and the older woman began to cry and mumbled incoherent words. A minute later, a guard approached and delivered the news.

"I'm sorry, my Queen. Lord Hoster Tully has passed."

"Have you written to him," Lady Catelyn asked as her good-daughter nodded.

"Jory said that the last news of Robb's whereabouts put him at the Crag. He was back at Castamere but I'm certain once he hears the news he'll come back," Nysa commented. "I had the pleasure of meeting Ser Brynden."

"I do not even know why they quarreled," Lady Catelyn smiled lightly, moving a hand to wipe her cheeks. "My father and his brother, Ser Brynden. Sometimes, that happens. You disagree on something for so long and by the time you decide to resolve you forget why you hold so much resentment in the first place." She laughed and looked at Nysa. "I'm not making any sense, am I?"

"You're allowed to have your moments of weakness, Lady Catelyn."

Catelyn turned and regarded her good-daughter carefully. "You look different."

"I am tired a lot. Speaking to the River Lords and ensuring that the Northern Lords are still cared for is an arduous task," Nysa admitted.

Catelyn hummed, "tell me about your concerns."

"I highly doubt that you'd desire to speak of them now."

"Please," she insisted.

Nysa took a moment to calm her nerves and choose the right words. "Lord Karstark has stopped speaking to me. He barely acknowledges me. Lyra insists that House Karstark be punished for their Lord's behavior, but I find that they have suffered enough punishment. We still wait for Lord Bolton's son to give us news of Winterfell, of Bran and Rickon. My Uncle is dead, I know not what happened to his daughter," Nysa looked down. "She is all the kin that Jory and I have left."

"We will get Winterfell back. And despite all that has happened, my sons and your cousin may still be alive. We've prayed to the Gods, Nysa. Leave it in their hands," Catelyn said gently. "What else is there?"

Nysa sighed and shook her head.

"Tell me, please."

"Robb sent me here, we argued the last time we saw one another. All we do is argue. His ravens are brief and far from letters of love. And I am so exhausted," Nysa closed her eyes. "Not just about the fighting but it seems as though nothing I do as his Queen is right. I don't know if I can do it - not with us arguing the way we do. It feels like I'm so alone. This isn't what I pictured marriage to be."

Catelyn pushed off her seat and walked to where her good-daughter sat. She touched Nysa's cheek lightly before skimming her arm. There were subtle differences - sure signs of it. Nysa did look exhausted - mentally, emotionally and physically. That could be the stress but that could also be something else. The joy of carrying a child was often filled with tiresome days. Catelyn wanted to be certain.

"Nysa, when was the last time you had your moon's blood?"

The young Queen's eyes opened and regarded the older woman before her.

"My Uncle - Ser Brynden - once told me that where one river ends, another one begins," she said with a light expression. An old saying in the Riverlands, that when someone passed it was to make room for new life in the House.

Nysa sat there - still bewildered about what Lady Catelyn was attempting to convey to her. It couldn't be possible. She had only lain with Robb twice. Although, many would argue that it takes only once. Nysa looked away from Lady Catelyn at the thought that just entered her mind.

"My darling girl, it is wonderful to be so quickly blessed."

She shook her head and began to sob. Oh, the injustice of it all. Nysa touched her swelling stomach. There had been a hardness to it, as though it were filling out, but she couldn't discern what it was. And she had demanded that Hot Pie make her all sorts of foods to eat - change in appetite. There was the tiredness and exhaustion as well. No, she thought. I can't be with child.

For a moment - very brief moment - she had hoped that she wasn't with child, hoped that she wasn't carrying Robb's heir. In the briefest of moments, she had pictured herself in Karhold, carrying a babe with deep brown hair and watching as Torrhen peered over the two of them, lovingly approving of mother and child.

You would have been Torrhen's wife or did you so quickly forget about that?

Nysa hated herself then and turned towards her good-mother, throwing her arms about her neck. These were distressing times, indeed. And people were allowed their moments of weakness. But as a Queen, she wasn't so sure she was allowed that. No, she thought burying her head into Lady Catelyn's warm and comforting motherly embrace. No one would forgive her if they knew she had hoped that the child she carried was Torrhen's and not Robb's.