Chapter 25
Sansa watched in horror as Joffrey - a person she once thought would become her husband, the father of her children - commanded that Ser Preston's head be hung on a spike. This was the same walkway he made her look up at her father's head. He vowed that he'd bring her Robb's. Seeing Ser Preston up there - something broke inside of her. He was the last - and only - person linking Sansa to her sister, Nysa and the North.
Her bottom lip trembled as she spied Lord Baelish looking at her - not with a sincere apology but rather a certain amount of disdain. He had mentioned that he saw her mother and her sister and that he would be able to get her back to them. But she had decline - trusting Ser Preston, trusting the man Nysa had left to look after her. And now he was gone.
I do not know what they have told you but Arya and I are alive and well. We are escaping King's Landing today with the help of Ser Preston.
Nysa had left Sansa behind believing that Ser Preston would look out for her. And he had been looking out for her. He never harmed her, never hurt her or raised his voice to her - not in the same way that Joffrey had ordered the rest of his Kingsguard. Every now and then he would escort her through the Capital - as though she were still the King's betrothed. He had treated her with respect, the same respect befitting a Lady. She never felt as though she were a prisoner - not with Ser Preston watching over her. But now...
"How did they find out," Sansa mumbled as Shae closed her eyes in shame and looked away. Shae should have known that would happen. She opened her mouth too hastily and that had cost Sansa.
"This is what happens when you betray me!"
Sansa looked down at her feet and tried to hide her tears from forming. They never did save her before. They wouldn't save her now.
"Your father, your Septa," Joffrey marched over towards her, shouting in her face.
Sansa flinched.
"And now your beloved Kingsguard," he pointed towards the head of Ser Preston. "He was mine! He was mine and you turned him against me! Did you spread your legs for him, you Northern bitch? Answer me!"
"I would never, your Grace," Sansa shook her head.
"You tricked him somehow, didn't you? Didn't you, you little..."
"That's enough."
Sansa turned, her eyes red and puffy from holding back the tears and saw Lord Tywin Lannister standing - proud and regal as always. He held his hands behind his back and motioned for one of the Lannister guards to step forward.
"Lady Sansa is from a noble House in the North, my King," Lord Tywin said as one of the guards placed his two hands on Sansa and pushed her gently behind them. "She is not to be treated as..."
"She is my prisoner! And I am the King. I do not need to be told how to treat my prison..."
Joffrey stopped as Lord Tywin moved to stand in front of him. "Take Lady Sansa back to her chambers," he instructed with a nod. Joffrey went to open his mouth but his grandfather kept his gaze on him. "I will speak with you shortly, my Lady," he glanced at Sansa.
"Yes, my Lord," she curtsied before the guards led her away.
Cersei came out then to stand by her father and wondered what he was doing. There were those of the small council present. Surely he did not plan on humiliating Joffrey - her son - while others were in attendance. She watched as the guards her father had brought with her, filed out - following Sansa.
Lord Tywin moved when the door had closed and stood at the balcony, looking up at the spikes on the wall. He noted that a few of them were empty - no doubt because Tyrion had returned Lord Stark's bones to Lady Stark. He sighed and thought about that son before knowing he'd have to deal with this grandson.
"Does your idiocy know no bounds?"
"Excuse me," Joffrey looked appalled.
Lord Tywin told his grandson, turning around. "I have served as Hand of the King to your father's predecessor - you know this. They called him the 'Mad King' and from where I stand, it could be possible that history has a way of repeating itself."
"Leave us," Cersei said as Lord Baelish, Maester Pycelle and Lord Varys bowed their heads and departed. There were other Kingsguards who were present and also left with a nod from Cersei. "My Lord father, surely..."
"The King asked to be consulted on appropriate matters whenever necessary. Well, then this is a necessity," Lord Tywin commanded. "As we speak there are numerous Houses - great and noble Houses - that have not swore fealty to you. And while you should worry about bringing these Houses and their men, their gold and their loyalty into the fold, you pester a young girl."
"She betrayed me!"
"And so you had your Kingsguard slain?" Tywin looked at Cersei and then walked pass his grandson. "First, you dismissed Ser Barristan from the Kingsguard. Then, Lord Stark - who served as Hand of the King, Hand to your father."
"He..."
"That brought the whole North and the Riverlands against you. And now, you have a Knight executed - one that is supposed to serve as your loyal guard for life," he looked back, "for life."
"As mentioned earlier," Cersei came forward and wrapped an arm around Joffrey, "this man betrayed his King. He's been looking out for Lady Sansa under the urging of that bastard girl from the North. What were we to do?"
Tywin barely glanced at his daughter. "Needless death will have endless consequences."
"You've always taught me - through example - that those who betray us need to pay. Years and years of lectures," she began, "did it ever occur to you that your daughter was the only one listening, living by them. That she would have the most to contribute to your legacy that you love so much more than your actual children," she smiled prettily.
A smile that Tywin tried to picture would be similar to his wife's but it wasn't - not really. Cersei tried - he had to admit that much. Right now, though...
"Go to visit your betrothed, my King," Lord Tywin stated.
"I think that as the King, I should be here."
Tywin glanced at him. "Spend time with Lady Margery Tyrell, my King."
"I have spent time with her. Don't you think that as the King..."
"You choose your next action wisely, your Grace."
That was the only statement Lord Tywin said as Joffrey left in a huff. There was a moment of silence as father and daughter considered one another. Cersei was a bit disturbed that she hadn't really been given recognition for her work. She had been the one who discovered Ser Preston's loyalty was to that bastard from the North, not her father. She had been the one who knew that Ser Barristan had stood by Lord Stark - ready to take her son off the throne, ready to expose them all. She had been the one to set right all the wrongs that had to be covered.
"You dismiss him to spend time with Margery," Cersei questioned.
"She is to become his Queen."
"Margery has her claws in Joffrey. She knows how to manipulate him."
"Good," he told her. "I wish you knew how to manipulate him." Cersei tilted her face slightly in confusion. "You're right. You do contribute," he acknowledged. "But you also make a mess of things."
"That's because you don't trust me. You still name Jamie as your heir and pride of Casterly," her eyes narrowed. "But what about me, father? Is it because of my sex?"
"I don't distrust you because you are a woman. I distrust you because you're not as smart as you think you are. Your brother - as skilled as he is - was disarmed by a bastard girl from the North. Then, I had confidence in you - my daughter - that you'd watch over the girl. A task that seemed to escape you as well, considering that she is no longer here. Then, I come back to the Capital to find that the same girl took one of the Stark girls with her and managed to corrupt a Kingsguard."
"There's obviously..."
"That is not all," Tywin commanded. "Your son," he clicked his tongue and shook his head. "You've allowed that boy to ride rough over you and everyone else in this city," he nodded towards the door. "I sent Tyrion here to make sure that he brought Joffrey in line. You went against that, bucked him at every turn."
"You expect me to listen to that half..."
"I expected you to listen to me," he interrupted her as he took a step forward. "I am the one who sent Tyrion here. I am the one who told him to make sure Joffrey behaved decently. This," he pointed towards the Kingsguard's head, "cannot happen again. And I'm not speaking of the execution. I'm speaking about the fact that someone here - in the Capital - was a spy for the North! And your son," he sighed heavily. "Your son does not know how to handle matters, not the way that a Lannister should."
"It will be dealt with," Cersei answered.
"Father is here, now. I will see that it is dealt with," Tywin admonished. "And while we worry on that, let the Tyrell girl work her seductions of Joffrey."
A surge of Frey soldiers and guards were in Riverrun. Ser Stevron looked just as confused as Robb and Nysa did. He stepped forward and stood next to Nysa. "No one informed me of this, my Queen."
"Perhaps they have come to pay their respects to House Tully," Nysa replied gently, attempting to put the older knight at ease.
"They were supposed to stay in Harrenhal with Lord Bolton," Robb added with a look of censure at Ser Stevron. "I want to meet with your brothers, Ser Stevron. I want to know what the meaning of this sudden arrival means."
Nysa's eyes widened as Robb held his hand out for her to join him. She took it eagerly and followed him quietly into the halls of Riverrun. They didn't converse about anything but she could feel the tension burning - not so much between the two of them but more so because of the surprised guests they had just received. Nysa tried to steady her beating heart. Had they come to kill her? Could she protect herself? Could she protect the babe? And what of Robb? Or Lady Catelyn and Arya? Then there was her brother to think of also.
Robb gestured with a nod towards Lord Edmure and Ser Brynden - the latter gave her a kind smile - before they entered into the meeting room where they would discuss matters with House Frey. Nysa looked around quickly and took in that only the Northern Lords were present.
"Where is Lord Bracken and Lord Blackwood," Nysa questioned Edmure. "And where is Lord Mallister and Ser Piper," she named as well.
"I have them commanding their men to guard the walls, my Queen," Ser Brynden answered. He stepped forward and quietly finished, "with the added presence of Frey knights, I wanted to ensure the safety of my King, my Queen and my home."
The Blackfish always thought ahead.
Nysa nodded in appreciation before Robb escorted her to sit next to him. This meant something, she thought. He brought her here to a meeting with him. He brought her here, she kept chanting. She looked over at him and smiled as he took her hand in his. Robb smiled in response before looking towards the door. Yes, this meant something.
Slowly, knights from House Frey filed into the room. She watched as Lyra entered the room then - with Jayne by her side - a sullen expression on both their faces. She narrowed her eyes at Lyra who shook her head. They were supposed to escort Lady Catelyn here. Instead, they came without her.
"This is from Lord Bolton," one of the Frey knights stepped forward. "He received raven from his son regarding Winterfell."
Quickly, Robb took the letter and opened it. Nysa leaned over as they both read the note in silence. "Rubbish," was her first word before looking up at the Frey men. "Ramsay didn't try hard enough! I demand that he..."
"He completed a thorough search, my Queen," the knight interrupted. "He wanted to be certain before he sent word."
"Well, I do not believe it," Nysa said with a clipped tone before blinking her eyes - tears brimming her lashes, threatening to spill.
"What is it, your Grace," asked the Greatjon on the side of Robb.
Robb took a deep breath before looking up at his Lords. "By the time Lord Bolton's son arrived, the Ironborn were gone. Theon had every one massacred," he threw the letter down on the table, "and he could not find my brothers."
"That means nothing," Nysa sniffed before wiping her face with her sleeve. She held her head high and looked at the knight who had handed them the letter. "Bran and Rickon could still be alive. They could have escaped, thought of going to the Wall to be with Jon. They don't know about him deserting," she said. "I want someone to write to the Wall..."
"Nysa," Robb said quietly as a sob threatened to wrack her body. He turned back towards the Frey knights and nodded to them. "Theon could have also taken them back to the Iron Islands as hostages."
"We haven't received any demands," Lord Glover stated. "For Deepwood Motte, Bear Island or your brothers, my King."
"We haven't gotten word for anything," Lady Dacey added.
"Which leads us to wonder," Greatjon turned slightly to face Robb and Nysa, "what happened to all the ravens? Did you think on that, my King? Perhaps - just perhaps - the Ironborn have killed the ravens as well."
"They are attacking places in the North," Daryn Hornwood spoke up from the other side of Robb. "When in battle, you cut off their lines of defense, their lines of escape," he mentioned. "And if they send out word..."
"Then we will know what is happening, be able to send more men back," Lyra commented, "assess the situation."
"Ramsay is there," Nysa responded. "Since the North is under attack, why can't he go and assist the Northern houses?"
"Lord Bolton's son only just returned to the North, your Grace," one of the Frey knights answered.
"He returned a while ago - a decent amount of time ago. If he only just returned then my request for him to search for Prince Bran and Prince Rickon wouldn't be unfounded," Nysa replied. "You yourself stated that he completed a thorough search. I may not be a soldier, but I know that you cannot complete a thorough search in such a short amount of time."
"Are you questioning Lord Bolton or House Frey?"
"Neither," Nysa stood up. Lyra came immediately to her side, hand of the hilt of her sword. A few of the Northern Lords stood as well, ready to defend their Queen. "I am merely wondering what Lord Bolton's son is doing now that he feels his search is complete. Lord Bolton should have instructed his son to assist the other Northern Houses. Lord Karstark received letter from his wife that they were under attack. Did he think to go there?"
No one answered and Nysa slowly took her seat, looking at each of them.
"Did he go to Deepwood Motte? If he is sitting around waiting for another command from the King, then by all means go and assist the North," Nysa commanded. "Our people, our homes are under attack. During his 'thorough search' did he think to hunt down the Ironborn raiders? Or perhaps he is on his way back here to assist King Robb? I didn't read either of those things in Lord Bolton's message. Maybe you could answer that for me since you are his messenger, what is Lord Bolton having his son do now?"
All heads turned towards the Frey knight as he attempted to collect his thoughts. It was obvious that Nysa's words had cut him down. A few of the Northern Lords were thinking that as well now - why hadn't Ramsay gone to assist the other Houses?
"Regardless what Lord Bolton's son has decided, it seems that our House has loss two marriages," another knight from House Frey stepped forward.
"Two," Nysa questioned.
Robb sighed. "The second was to Bran," he answered as she glanced at him and then back towards the Frey men.
"With that piece of news in mind, our father calls us back to the Twins," Ser Aenys Frey stood in front of them.
"It's not about marriage pacts," Ser Wylis Manderly shouted.
"Your mission to have your Queen assassinated, failed," Greatjon demanded, his fists slamming on the table.
The other Northern Lords began to shout at the few Freys who stood before Robb and Nysa. She took a deep breath - remembering Lady Catelyn's words - and held up one of her hands to stop the Lords from arguing.
"Your House's allegiance is very important to both the King and myself," Nysa looked at Robb and then the Freys who were gathered. "Surely there's some sort of arrangement that we can work into," she glanced towards Ser Stevron.
"I will not be going back to the twins," Ser Stevron took a step forward.
"Neither will I," Ser Danwell added.
"Danwell," the first Frey turned to look at him. "Father calls us all..."
"Our House was slighted, that much is true," Ser Stevron looked at his brothers. "But I have faith that our Queen will make amends for their actions," he glanced at Nysa who shamefully looked away. She had no time to think about Jory's advice to stay away from Robb. Like Lady Catelyn had told her, what was done, is done. Now she had to repair the damage. "Because of that," Ser Stevron turned around and knelt down slowly, "I will stay. Robb Stark is our King, his wife - our Queen, and we have made a promise to them. Two broken promises does not make it honorable. It just leads to more chaos, brothers."
Nysa noticed Ser Perwyn looked confused as to what to do, along with Ser Jared. She was certain that many of them - like Ser Aenys - felt that they owed Robb anything when they had nothing to gain from it.
"Father will be angry with you," the first knight stepped past him - a renewed sense of confidence now that his brothers had spoken up around him. "The rest of us will not stay in the company of those who break their vows to House Frey."
This was a crushing blow to both Nysa and Robb. On the news that Theon had killed everyone in Winterfell and the possibility that Bran and Rickon were loss as well, now they had just seen House Frey depart from them. Robb's hold tightened on her hand and Nysa knew his response would be one of anger. Quickly, Nysa stood up. But at the same time so did Robb.
"If that's how you feel," Robb's reply was tight and angered. Grey Wind growled in the back of him.
Sansa stood as Lord Tywin entered the room. The Lannister guards who were there stood on each side of the door and continued there as the door closed behind Lord Tywin.
"Forgive the King," Lord Tywin stated. "He has been..."
Sansa quickly shook her head. "There is nothing to forgive, my Lord. Though I am saddened to have lost the prospect of being my King's betrothed, I admire him greatly and am grateful for his," she paused and looked down as Lord Tywin's gaze turned towards her. "For his generosity."
"Generosity," Lord Tywin chuckled and gestured towards a chair.
Quickly, Sansa moved one of her needlework away from the other so that they both could sit. Before she could, Lord Tywin took the needlework in his hand and admired it.
"A direwolf?" Sansa was on the verge of asking for forgiveness but once again, Lord Tywin continued on. "I doubt you'd want my grandson to see that."
Of course not, she thought.
"I have news of your brother."
"My brother is a traitor."
"Your brother is wed," Lord Tywin stated as Sansa looked up to him with wide eyes. "We received raven that he wed a young woman named 'Nysa Snow' - a woman that was here in King's Landing, a woman that," he paused and pinned Sansa with his gaze, "that took Harrenhal and killed Ser Gregor Clegane."
If Sansa's face hadn't shown shock before, it definitely did now.
"I do not know how she arranged for Ser Preston to look after you. I do not know how she was able to kill Ser Gregor. There seems to be a many a thing that I do not know about her - this Queen of the North and the Trident," he said.
He didn't sound angry but Sansa still kept herself on alert. She didn't want to seem to happy to hear that news. She remembered seeing the Mountain in battle at the tourney, had watched how he killed one knight, came close to killing three others. Nysa had killed the Mountain! Sansa turned her head slightly away to hide the smile. House Lannister's champion was gone, dead and defeated.
"I want to know more about this so-called Queen," Lord Tywin gestured towards the guards then who exited the rooms but then reappeared with her father's sword. "Your father's sword is yours. I will give it back to you. You can do with it as you please," he announced. "Send it home to Winterfell, send it to your brother and his wife as a wedding gift. But I want to know all about this maiden 'Nysa Snow'."
Sansa felt a thump in her heart. She had heard from Shae that Lord Tyrion had sent her father's bones back to her mother, Lord Baelish had confirmed that he traveled with the bones - met her mother. If Nysa was truly Queen then she must be working on a way to get Sansa back - they all must. She had promised. I believe we will meet Robb on the road. Once we do, we will get you out of there, Sansa. I promise. Know that we are fighting for you, Sansa. Your brother, your mother, your sister and I, including the entire North. We are fighting for you - the wolf among the lions.
"My Lord, I do not know much."
"I think you know much more than you are letting on," he told her.
Sansa glanced at her father's sword, the light dancing off the steel. Ice was carried by House Stark for years - many, many years. Right now she scolded herself for not knowing the exact number. If Arya were here, she'd probably shout it loudly and demand that the sword be sent to Robb. It belonged in the North. It belonged to House Stark. She remembered though seeing Ser Preston's head on a spike and knew that she couldn't trust anyone here.
"I promise Joffrey won't harm you anymore," he said as her head snapped towards him.
"He never harms me unless it is deserved. And I am the daughter and sister of traitors," she began her tale. "I..."
"Lady Sansa," Lord Tywin sighed and leaned forward. "I have no time for self-pity. Tell me, who is Nysa Snow? You must know something of her since she was to become one of your ladies-in-waiting. My own wife was a Lady for the Targaryen Queen. Those positions weren't chosen lightly."
"No, I'm sure they weren't," Sansa shook her head before answering. "Nysa is the daughter of Ser Martyn Cassel. Her father died fighting during the Rebellion. Because of that, my father brought her home with him from the South."
Tywin titled his head. "So, she is from here?"
Sansa nodded. "Well," she paused, "her mother is from here. Her mother came from a Great House. I don't know where, though. My father and mother never told us, my Lord," she looked down.
"I am just learning that she was in Harrenhal - under my care, tending to the wounded Lannister guards. She aided Ser Stafford and warmed Ser Lucion's bed."
"Nysa would never," Sansa shouted before her eyes widened in fear and she shrunk back once more. "Forgive me, my Lord. I do not know what came over me. I didn't mean to discredit you or argue with you. I would never. You should not take my words seriously. I am just the daughter of..."
"If you say that one more time, I will think you incompetent," he interjected. "It is obvious that her and my cousin sharing a bed were just rumors. After all, she and your sister stayed undetected in Harrenhal - without anyone's notice. How did she accomplish that?"
Sansa opened her mouth but Lord Tywin stopped her.
"Now think of your words carefully, my Lady. I sat with your sister, had conversations with her. I thought her smart - smarter than my own daughter. The young woman who is now Queen of the North, sat at my table with my Lords - gave me advice. Advice I followed because I thought her to be like my very own sister. And the proof in that is that they both survived. With that in mind, I hope that you and I can have a reasonable conversation. Ser Lucion kept her safe and for what reason," he questioned. Sansa looked confused. "He is not here to answer so I am asking you. They obviously knew one another."
Sansa licked her lips and took a deep breath. "I remember the Hand's tourney," she began. "There were a few knights who she had tended to. She could have tended to his wounds, my Lord."
Lord Tywin hummed in acknowledgement, gesturing with his hand for her to go on.
"I know there was one knight who asked her for a favor," Sansa answered slowly. "I remember she danced with a few knights at the feast for the Hand of the King, including Ser Preston," she mumbled the last part.
"Hmm," he made the noise again before responding. "That's still not much."
"My Lord, I..."
"I will be realistic with you, my Lady. You are the only reason why your brother continues to war against the crown. Now he has a Queen, a Queen who had one of my own kin hiding her within enemy camp, a Queen who took away Ser Gregor - one of the best under my command. She is more than just the daughter of some knight from the North."
"Her Uncle was Winterfell's Master-at-arms," Sansa closed her eyes. "Her brother is captain of House Stark's guards. And my mother raised her. Our Septa and our Maester instructed her - the same as they did with me, with the rest of my siblings."
"They wanted her to be the equal as a high-born Lady, why?"
"I do not know, my Lord."
He sighed again and looked at the sword. "She shot an arrow at my son and she still lived. She deceived my daughter and was allowed to escape the capital. She is now Queen of the North and the Trident. A bastard girl that no one knows a thing about - not Cersei, not Tyrion, not Jamie, not Lord Varys, not Lord Baelish, not even you. She is smarter than anyone gives her credit for."
Tywin went to stand and patted the sword on the table.
"I'll leave this here in good faith, my Lady. If you should think of something - anything," he clarified. "Or perhaps you know of any other friends she made while she stayed here in the Capital," Tywin tapped the sword again and preceded to walk out.
Silently, Tywin prayed that this plan he was plotting on would work. This girl escaped them one too many times.
Nysa watched as the soldiers of House Frey prepared to depart. A few of them were arguing about staying. She sighed and continued to watch on. A few of the knights and men had decided to stay on with their King - and their Queen, she thought bitterly. There were rumors and murmurs going about that many of them were desiring to assassinate said Queen. And with that Robb didn't hold any desire to speak to them.
She turned and saw a familiar face. She wondered if Robb had sent him. Robb may have voiced his concern, arrogantly shouting at them and demanding that whoever so much as looked at her was to be executed - even Ser Stevron Frey - but Nysa knew that many of them needed to be soothed. Cursing House Frey and threatening them in the same manner would get them nowhere. And Nysa understood how well they needed House Frey.
"You shouldn't be here without a guard," Harrion informed her. Yes, it is possible that he was sent by Robb. He wanted her to be well-guarded. At least he cared that much.
"I am not completely without protection," Nysa tapped her side and Harrion eyed the sword next to her.
"You're also not completely skilled with a sword," Harrion teased and she smiled. These days her smile was rarely seen. "Remember, I told you to stick to the bow."
"Aye, you did. But it doesn't mean I won't carry this every now and then," she gestured towards her sword before looking out at the yard.
"Have you named it, yet? I also recall informing you that a good sword needs a good name," Harrion said.
Nysa pulled out the sword and lifted it for Harrion to hold. "Did you see what your brother did to it?" She ran her fingers along the engraving. "It says 'Sun and Snow'. And right there in the ruby," she moved to the hilt, "is House Karstark's sigil. I may not be skilled with it. I may always prefer the bow. But keeping this here reminds me of the reason why I am alive because the person who held it last, rode here from the North to save me. It reminds me of my promise to House Karstark. That there is justice for House Karstark - for the one who rode here to save me," she looked up at Harrion. "And when I find him, he will know this maiden's mercy."
Harrion nodded before touching the words on the sword. "Maiden's Mercy, huh?"
"Torrhen fought for that maiden - not for a Queen. I wanted him to know, wanted House Karstark to know that that maiden hasn't forgotten the vengence that is owed."
He chuckled and handled it back to her. "I fear for the Kingslayer once you deliver your mercy to him." He leaned forward and brushed his lips against her forehead. "You would have been a wonderful addition to our House."
Nysa sighed and turned away. "Your father doesn't seem to think so. I suppose he never really did. I am a bastard and..."
"I'll hear none of that," Harrion told her as she put the sword away and the two of them continued to look out over the yard. Waylyn and Hod - another guard from Karhold - came to stand guard with Harrion. "Torrhen never saw you as one, never treated you as one. Do not disgrace the memory of him by belittling yourself that way."
Harrion glanced at her and saw the briefest of smiles fall upon her face. It appeared as though she lifted her chin - daring anyone to contradict what he had just stated. Or perhaps she was building confidence and strength from that one statement. Whatever it was, Harrion saw a sense of determination in her eyes. She had changed recently, he just couldn't pinpoint it.
"Exactly why are you here, my Queen?"
Nysa turned towards him with a wider smile and quickly wiped the wetness near her eyes. "I wanted to thank the men who came to fight for us from House Frey."
"It hardly looks like any of them will receive you," he looked around.
"I see someone who will," she nodded towards the yard. "Are you going to accompany me or stay here?"
Harrion didn't answer verbally but instead took a couple steps with her. He followed closely behind her as she made her way towards the Frey knight who was preparing to leave. Waylyn and Hod did the same, keeping a wary eye open.
"Ser Perwyn," Nysa called out. "I hear you are leaving."
Ser Perwyn turned to her and bowed in response. "My brother," he nodded ahead of him towards a man who looked very upset about her presence here. "He considers it an insult that the King has broken his promise to our father."
"I understand," she nodded before touching his shoulder and then walking towards a few of the other Frey men. "Ser Whalen," she nodded to one of them. "Young Hoster," she bowed her head as Ser Whalen's son came to mount his horse.
"Your Grace," he bowed but a throat cleared causing him to jerk upright. Yes, it was definitely obvious her presence was unwanted.
"I hear that you are leaving Ser Damon's service," she said.
"Aye, my Uncle feels that we have served his Grace in full."
"And his Grace considers it an honor that you all have been here, even you," she touched his shoulder. "There are many a young squires leaving today but I was told that out of them all, your cousin regrets your departure the most." Hoster looked ashamed for a moment. "It is only because he spoke of your talent and skill. I have seen your Uncles and cousins fight in a tourney as well as in battle. There is skill there and I'm sure that you will become a good Knight as they are one day." Hoster smiled as did his father. "May the Gods be with, young Hoster," she dipped into a curtsy. "The next time we meet, I may call you Ser."
"It would be an honor, your Grace," he bowed.
Nysa continued to slowly walk around and converse with the the Frey men who were there. Ser Perwyn kept a close eye on her - matching the stride of Harrion Karstark and following from a safe distance should one of his brothers or nephews decide to make the King a widower. Word was that 'Black Walder' had already threatened to do so when they arrived in Riverrun. But he was surprised to see that many of them showed their respect to her. A few who had been present in Harrenhall's cells as well as the tourney in King's Landing looked guilty but Nysa assured them that she did not hold any resentment for them choosing to leave.
"Ser Stevron is upset with us though," one of the Frey soldiers spoke. "He spoke highly of you to his son but..."
Nysa stopped him. "I wish not to come between father and son. I spoke to Ser Stevron of this and told him that if his son wishes to leave and you all along with him then I will not keep you. I know that there have been lives lost on your end as well. I know that you all wish to see your wives and homes," she nodded to a couple of them. "I think nothing less of a man who wishes to do so. You have served the King well and I thank you for that."
Perwyn came to stand in front of her, drawing his sword. Harrion gripped her upper arm and held his sword out as well. She tried to calm herself down. She didn't see any threat. Waylyn moved to her left and that's when she saw it. Nysa turned then to see one of the Frey Knights ride towards her. He held a sword in his hand and looked down at Nysa with narrowed eyes.
"I will hear no more pretty words from this whore."
"She is our Queen," Ser Perwyn shouted back at him.
"You forget your place, Perwyn!"
"No, you've forgotten yours," Ser Stevron called from the steps. Slowly, he made his way down, eyeing out any Freys who would challenge him.
"Please," she touched Perwyn's arm to put his sword away. She didn't want a repeat of what happened outside of Riverrun. "I didn't want a violent parting."
"Stevron is right, Harys," Ser Danwell came by the group then. "Remember she is the Queen who breaths fire," he said loudly looking around the yard as some of the men backed away.
"Ser Harys," Nysa bowed her head before the Knight, hoping to placate him and defuse the situation further.
"What are you doing here, your Grace," he asked. His tone was not threatening anymore, merely curious.
"I wish to thank the men who served the King."
"I must wonder why the King is not present himself to thank us," Ser Dafyn Vance trotted forward on his horse.
"The King is too proud," Nysa answered honestly.
"You argued about coming out here, didn't you," Ser Dafyn smiled.
"We do not see eye to eye on many matters, though it is no concern of yours what takes place between another man and his wife, especially if that man is the King."
"Of course," he bowed his head slightly. He looked around for a moment before dismounting his horse. "Tell my wife that I am still serving the King and Queen."
"You wife will have wanted you to come home with me," she noted Ser Stevron's son came there.
"No," he shook his head, "My wife would have wanted me to protect her father, your father," he emphasized. "The Queen nursed him back from death itself. And for that I am in debt to her Grace, you should be too."
"Why you..."
"Stop," Nysa put up her hands. "I do not want you to fight among yourselves, please," she pleaded as Ser Stevron's son backed up. A few others around them put away their swords, including Ser Harys - the first Knight who charged at her.
"Let's go," Black Walder trotted by on his horse then. His eyes narrowed at Nysa before he urged his horse forward.
There were more men who decided to stay back as well. Whether it was due to Nysa's humbling thanks, Ser Stevron's presence or Ser Dafyn Vance's words, she did not know. Perwyn looked at his brothers who were leaving and those who were staying.
"As I said earlier, I will not hold any back," she told him. Perwyn nodded but looked over his shoulder. "Or is there another you were hoping would stop you?"
Perwyn shook his head and then turned back to look ahead. "She is a strong woman, not just in body but also in character. It is not in her to ask me to stay, no matter how much I hope for it."
"She likes you. She hasn't said as much but I know House Mormont well," Nysa nodded.
Perwyn hesitated once again. His brother Jared rode by then. Perwyn turned towards Nysa and bowed. He may have liked the Lady Mormont well but nothing was promised and he knew that she would never leave the North of her family to join his. He regretted mounting his horse, not just because of her. He had a deep respect for the King. His Grace treated every one of his personal guards as his closest of friends. And the Queen, he thought as he looked at her, she too had become a friend to him. Yes one of his sisters should be in her place but Nysa was a kind person. He had met her in King's Landing when she tended to his brothers and then assisted him in unhorsing Ser Trant. She was just a maiden then who cheered for his brothers as much as she had for her own - until her brother faced them.
"Ser Jared," she curtsied to him.
"I know what you must think of me," he told her. "I raised my cup to honor you. You took care of my wounds, saved my brother, myself and countless others while in Harrenhal. And this is the thanks you are receiving," he gestured around her.
Nysa shook her head. "The King slighted your House, as did I," she said softly.
"I do not stand with my brother Stevron."
"Neither do his son or grandsons," Nysa smiled and then nodded towards Edwyn Frey and 'Black Walder' who were preparing to leave. "I will not hold any of you back. I merely wished to come and thank you all," she paused, "well thank those who would receive me."
"You are a gracious Queen, indeed," he bowed his head and left.
Harrion touched Nysa's shoulder once everyone who had decided to leave - departed. She startled and gave a small shriek, gripping her dress near her heart. His eyes held concern and worry. She smiled reassuringly and patted his arm.
"I am alright," Nysa said.
He stayed there with her as she watched the Frey banners ride further away and tried not to let it overwhelm her. Her and Robb's actions had caused half of House Frey's men to leave. Many had arrived from Harrenhal when they heard of Lord Tully's passing. And now, they were gone. She looked back at the Frey men who had decided to stay before glancing once more at the large party that left.
I need to remind you that my House will do what they want. I am not their Lord. They seek my father's approval. And I can only do so much to assuage all of House Frey.
The loyalty of the Houses to their King and Queen were slipping away, just like the men who were riding away from Riverrun. She had to make amends with House Frey. She wasn't sure how to do it but she needed to have it done soon.
Jon sat upon his horse for what felt like an eternity. Ghost had taken off miles earlier only to reemerge with two figures close behind him. The horses were skittish when the direwolf had returned and with good reason. Now there were three direwolves standing in front of Jon. Osirc and Ronnel had taken out their sword and ax, respectively. Jon put up a hand to halt their actions and continued to look out at the small pack.
Jojen Reed had told him to go to this particular spot of the woods. They were travelling back from Karhold and arrived at a piece of woods between Last Hearth and the Wall. Meera had requested that she ride back towards Winterfell to ensure its safety. If what the Ironborn at Karhold were stating the truth, then Theon was still somewhere here in the North. Ghost had taken a liking to her and so Jon allowed it.
But now, he wasn't so sure he should have let her leave. Meera could have walked into the woods to discover the truth behind these direwolves next to Ghost.
Ghost was tall and impressive on his own but seeing him reunited with the other two caused Jon to pause, a deep intake of breath allowing him to move. These weren't just any direwolves - they looked a lot like wolves he had seen in Winterfell. Slowly, he dismounted from his horse. Standing next to the horse and gripping onto the reins, Jon searched the surrounding woods for any reason why the two wolves were here.
He got his answer when he heard a whimper from deep within the trees. His head snapped up, towards the sound.
"Jon?"
"Bran," Jon smiled.