Chapter 26

"Ser Patrek," Nysa curtseyed. "I have met your father. He is a good man."

"House Mallister is loyal to House Tully," Edmure noted, "and of course to their King and Queen. Not to mention, Patrek is a good friend of mine."

As she spoke to several of River Lords, Nysa wondered where Robb had gone to. This was a gathering feast of sorts to welcome those who had traveled to Riverrun - not just to see their King but to also mourn the loss of Lord Tully. She had met her fair share of Lords and knights since she had arrived. But with the return of both Edmure and Robb, the halls of Riverrun seemed to be filled with fresh faces. She was eager to meet them all but had hoped that Robb would be by her side, greeting them as well.

Her ears tuned then to the sound of his laughter. She looked to where she heard it and immediately soured at the sight. There in her chair, next to Robb, sat Lady Jeyne Westerling. Nysa pressed her lips in irritation as she saw Jeyne's hand lay on top of Robb's and give it a small squeeze.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, your Grace."

Nysa turned away from seeing Robb and Jeyne together. It wasn't the first time she had spotted the two. But with each additional incident, it felt like a part of her broke further. She touched the swell in her stomach and detested the fact that her child was going to be born to a father and mother who could barely stand each other.

"Are you alright, your Grace?"

"Yes," Nysa looked up and forced a smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ser Patrek."

He smiled at her before following her gaze. "I wouldn't be too bothered by it, my Queen. House Tully's words are 'Family, Duty, and Honor'. And if the King..."

"The King may favor House Tully in looks but he is his father's son," Nysa said before turning - thinking about Jon then.

She had been glad that Edmure had been called by one of the River Lords at the time. It was bad enough that Ser Patrek had seen her irritated gaze. That - she supposed hurt the most - the fact that everyone could see him with that - she huffed, thinking of all sorts of unladylike titles to call Jeyne. The least Robb could have done was spare her the humiliation and pretend to be discreet about it.

Ser Patrek hurried to step in front of her before she left the hall entirely.

"I meant no disrespect, my Queen. I only meant to address that the King has been instilled with values from his mother. That right there," he gestured to the high table. "That is only momentary, a fleeting emotion. Believe me, my life is full of fleeting emotions."

Nysa looked at where he nodded his head to see a few maids smiling and giggling at Ser Patrek.

"The ladies adore you, Ser Patrek."

"They do," he nodded, waving to one of them as the rest of her friends giggled and pushed her playfully in their direction. "But I know that I must find a good wife, one that would become the future Lady of Seagard. She would have to be of strong mind because there will be many like that one," he nodded again towards Robb and Jeyne.

"I pray to the Gods then for your wife."

"You will," he smiled.

"I will," she nodded. "She'll need every bit of sanity to put up with your madness." Ser Patrek began to laugh heartily. "Where there are many in her case, I have one," she eyed Jeyne, "and still find myself in a fluster."

"Like I said, my wife would have to be strong-minded. I believe you are, my Queen. If you weren't, you wouldn't have gained our respect so easily. You should show our King how strong-minded you can be. Don't let one fleeting emotion bring you down."

"Thank you for your advice, Ser Patrek. But I find that tonight I am too tired to fight against any fleeting emotions. I will bid you goodnight, Ser," Nysa bowed her head to him as he did in respond.

Lyra was currently in a drinking contest with her sister and a few other guards from House Mormont and House Umber. Smalljon was overseeing their contest but looked up briefly to noticed that Nysa was leaving. He put his cup down and went to follow her, but Nysa shook her head at him. She wanted to be alone. It seemed that everyone had an opinion about her and Robb's marriage these days.

Many - like Ser Patrek - told her to fight for him, show that maiden from the Westerlands a thing or two. While others - like Ser Merlon - had attempted to pursue her. She snorted as she walked down the hallways. She was no Cersei Lannister. She wouldn't betray Robb like that, birthing another man's child and then pass him off as Robb's heir. Although, she did carry a child with her now. And that child was definitely Robb's - no other's.

Nysa paused as she reached their room. But she did hold another man in her heart and though she did not want to admit it, she knew that was betrayal in a different form.

"I am merely sharing with you what most likely ails my son," he looked towards her. "Brandon was charming and could easily win the smiles of maids everywhere he went. But not I. I lived in his shadow and felt that I still did even long after his death. It is a challenging thing for a man to cope with by constantly being compared to another. Remember that," he nodded to her, "especially when dealing with my son."

"Lord Stark if I am betrothed to..."

"Do you think it will be easy for Robb to see you with Torrhen?" She shook her head. "It was not easy for me to imagine my brother in my place next to my wife. There were times that I thought she would have wanted him there instead of me. But Catelyn never did compare us. She handled the situation better than anyone else and has been the perfect Lady for Winterfell and for me. I would never dishonor her," he said as Nysa narrowed her eyes for a moment, trying to understand why Lord Stark was telling her this. "As for Lady Ashara, she was merely a maid that I had danced with and nothing more."

"Nothing more," Nysa whispered at the memory before pushing open the door and entering her chamber.

Could it be that Jeyne was just some maid that Robb enjoyed talking too? Or perhaps she had been just as guilty in all of this? Was Robb picturing Torrhen in his place just as easily as Nysa was? She berated herself for it and thought then of her conversation with Lady Stark.

Nysa nodded. "I miss him. I think that being his wife might have been..."

"Don't do that, Nysa. It won't help you. It won't help Robb. The moment that I was married to Ned, I put similar thoughts on the side. Ned became my husband, the father of my children, the Lord of my home. And in time, I grew to love Ned deeply."

"We're always so angry with one another," Nysa cried. "How can I bring a child into this world when his or her parents can barely stand one another?"

"In time, love will come for you and Robb. You need to be sure to put him first. And those thoughts of Torrhen, Nysa," she moved to kiss her forehead, "they'll never go away but they will get easier. Keep those beautiful memories to help you, encourage you but never use them against creating memories with Robb."

Nysa sat on a cushioned chair and looked at herself in the mirror. She tried to push away thoughts of Torrhen and how he had promised that there would be no one else but her - that there hadn't been any since that day she left Karhold. No, it would do no good to compare the two. Nysa closed her eyes and said a quick prayer to the Mother - something Lady Catelyn often said she did as well - begging for patience and endurance.

Her eyes opened when a soft knock came at her door.

"There you are," Robb smiled at Nysa as he walked into their room. He looked pleased to see her - as though he had been worried about her.

She wasn't certain why she was suddenly irritated with his arrival, but Nysa huffed as he began to undress and get ready for bed.

"Oh, you were looking for me," was her curt reply. "One must wonder why you are not keeping warm in Jeyne Westerling's bed," she started to brush her hair.

Robb paused and looked over at Nysa. "What are you speaking of?"

Nysa slammed the brush down and turned to him. "Lady Jeyne Westerling? The entire hall saw her sitting in my seat, the Queen's seat," she emphasized. "And yet you did nothing to stop it but smile and whisper in her ear. Did you make plans to visit her once you are done with me? Well, I can save you the formality of wishing me a good night and bid you go to her first because I am not sharing your bed!"

"I still do not understand..."

"Jeyne Westerling was seducing you!"

Her voice was growing louder with every statement and Robb was sure that someone was bound to hear her, perhaps even his mother or Arya. He licked his lips and took a deep breath. "We were talking."

"She had her hands on you! I did not know that it was alright for a Lady to touch another's husband like that unless it was welcomed," she accused.

"I did not welcome anything. We were just ta..."

"Talking," Nysa finished with a roll of her eyes. "Well, with her pretty eyes and light touches on your arm, I'm sure she could talk you into her bed."

"I hardly noticed her eyes."

"Some lover you'd make for her then," Nysa snorted.

By now Robb was getting furious. He had thought nothing of the talk he had with Jeyne. And the accusation that he would take her to his bed had him fuming. Yes, Jeyne had presented a tempting offer - more than once - but he refused each time. He wouldn't bring shame to his wife, though she were still pining for some dead Lord, Robb thought. And yet, here he was - the one who receiving censure for 'speaking' to another.

However, Nysa's accusations didn't stop there.

"How many lovers had you had Robb? I know I wasn't your first," she shouted.

"What does that have to..."

"Do you plan on fathering a bastard somewhere just to spite me?"

"I would never do such a thing! And I do not like that tone that you are taking with me," he growled.

"What do you plan to do," her eyes narrowed, "lock me in my rooms as you do with your mother? That would be pleasant for you and Jeyne, would it not?"

"There is no involvement of me and Jeyne or any other Lady here," Robb howled, equally livid as Nysa was at the moment.

"I saw you!"

"What you saw was a conversation," Robb snorted. "Their House surrendered to the North. Her and her brother were sent here along with their bannermen to bend the knee. We have their father as one of our prisoners."

"House Crakehall, House Brax and House Banefort have done the same! I don't see you flirting with Ser Merlon or Ser Tytos!"

"It was not flirting. We were in discussions about..."

"You were not in a discussion about politics," Nysa threw her brush at Robb's head.

He ducked just as it whirled past his head. "Have you gone mad?"

"I have," Nysa shouted as she picked up a bottle of oil and flung it towards him. "She touched you and you enjoyed it! The two of you take walks around Riverrun's halls! She sat in my seat! How long Robb? How long has she been in my place, at your side? You horrid, no-good," a nearby candle holder was flown across the room. Robb dodged that one as well. "Sorry excuse for a husband," Nysa continued to scream.

"She has never been at my side! I have never taken another to my bed. I," Robb stopped and help up his hand, pointing a finger straight at Nysa.

She had flown almost everything within her reach at him. Now the only thing left was her brother's dagger. The steel gleamed from the fire in the room. Nysa appeared determined to hit him in some way or form. But the dagger was a bit too far.

"Don't you dare," he warned but the blade left her hand.

Robb scrambled to the floor and upon hearing her curse - and feeling no pain in his body - knew that she had missed. A part of him glad that it wasn't her bow. He would definitely be dead if it was.

"Nysa be reasonable," he pushed himself off the floor.

"Go and bed that whore, for all I care," she shouted.

Something soft hit his face, covering his sight. He pulled the offending piece of garment off him and noticed that she'd flown her cloak at him. With a growl that could rival Grey Wind's, he threw the cloak harshly onto the ground. "Since we've wed, I have not bed anyone but you!"

"Then go and touch her, lure her into the dark corners in Riverrun and have your way with her," she scanned the room and saw nothing nearby that she could grab. Nysa dashed towards the bed, evading Robb's grasp as he went around the sitting chair in their room.

"Stop trying to injure me by flying objects at my head," he took a hold of her arms and tried to pull her against him.

"No! Let go of me, you rotten liar!"

Nysa struggled against his grip, but Robb's hands were larger, and he had grown in strength. "I did not lie to you! Calm down, woman!" When wrenching her hands would not work, Nysa tried to kick her legs out at him.

"No," she shouted as they tangled with one another. "Let go of me, you..."

"Oh, shut up," Robb growled as he pressed his lips against hers.

This time, he noticed that she didn't fight it - she encouraged it. Nysa pulled him closer and dragged him towards the bed - an open invitation. Unlike their last argument, she displayed no disdain with him touching her this time and he gladly reciprocated. Their kiss was fierce and full of passion. He wanted to devour her, she wanted to be feasted on. He had longed for this, she had missed this.

It was hard for either of them to focus on the argument any longer, not when the frustration had turned towards desire and the fury in them had burned into lust. Robb longed to feel her warmth, the connection that held them together, the heat that drove him out of his senses. Nysa had missed his body moving through hers, the tugging of her hair by his rough fingers and the possessive growl he emitted from claiming her. Tonight, right now, at this moment, they would belong to one another once more.

Nysa's fingers tore off the rest of his clothes, his tunic and pushed down at his breeches. "Why do you have all these clothes on you?"

"The next time, I'll come to you naked," he smiled against her lips as he pulled at her gown.

"I like the sound of that, my King," she purred, causing Robb to growl as he crawled over her body.

Jon smiled as Rickon explained his story, his near-death experience. It should have shocked Jon but the way Rickon explained it, the way he animatedly portrayed the last few days allowed Jon to realize that Rickon was still mischievous as ever.

You don't know what you'd be giving up.

His Uncle's words echoed in his head every time he looked at his two younger brothers. They were alive. Thank the Gods, they were alive. And he didn't want to give them up again. Bran would be returning to Winterfell - that much was certain. Rickon had reminded him of it. There must always be a Stark in Winterfell.

Ronnel Woods advised Jon that perhaps Rickon could stay in Last Hearth or be taken to his House - House Woods - or House Forrester or House Branch. "It would be easier to hide the young Lord there," he said to Jon when they reached Last Hearth and Harmund Umber had opened the gates to them. "The Ironborn don't know the woods like we do."

"That is true," Bran spoke up, hearing their conversation.

"You wish to part from Rickon," Jon asked him.

Bran shook his head. "But if something should happen to me, at least Rickon will be safe."

"Something should happen to you," Jon shook his head. "I'm not letting anything happen to either of you."

"They're coming."

"Who is," Jon pressed, "the Ironborn? Let them come. The Lannisters? Robb will stop them first."

"The wildlings," Bran answered. "I saw it."

"What do you mean, you saw it?"

"Another one who sees things," Ronnel huffed in annoyance before getting up and moving to another table.

Jon took a moment to look at his brother. He noted that Jojen Reed sat a small distance away, watching Bran as well. Jon sighed and shook his head.

"I know what you're thinking, Jon," Bran told him. "It's madness whatever Jojen told you. But it is true," he assured his brother. "There are things that I can do, things that I can see. To go into the mind of our dire wolves is only the beginning, Jon."

"That was you," Jon murmured. "I thought," he paused and shook his head in disbelief. "You told me to stay in the North. She wants me here, you said."

"Nysa," Bran replied. "She and Robb are wed. I saw it through Summer, who saw it through Grey Wind."

Jon's brows furrowed in confusion. He had just learned of Torrhen's death. Why had Nysa quickly wed Robb? There were a thousand questions in his mind about the entire situation. Now, Nysa was Robb's Queen - Queen of the North. What did Lady Catelyn think? What would his father have thought? He remembered Lady Karstark mentioning that her husband was there. Did Lord Karstark think it a betrayal?

"You must write to them, Jon. They argue too much," Bran whispered the last sentence. "Plots are growing around them, plots that depend on Nysa and Robb's disagreements. She pushes one way and he pulls the other. It works against them, against the North. Tell them that we are alive, Jon. If something should happen to Robb while he and Nysa don't have an heir," he stopped and glanced towards Rickon. "Winterfell must always have a Stark."

"You could have him go to Bear Island," Osric added. "The wildlings would have to go over the Sea to get to him. And the Ironborn wouldn't dare risk another attack, not when they know our strength, not with the threat you just gave."

Jon looked conflicted. He wanted to keep them all together, bring them back to Winterfell. But what Bran mentioned was true. Should something happen, the North and Winterfell would need a Stark. Bran or Rickon would need to be kept safe.

"We'll inform everyone that I took Rickon to Karhold," Jon said. "Tell your Lord Uncle that if anyone asks, Rickon is here in Last Hearth."

Osric nodded.

"Who is that woman that was with you," Jon gestured towards Osha.

Bran looked her way and called her over. "Osha, this is Jon - my brother who served at the Wall. Jon, this is Osha. Robb came across her group in the wolfswood. She surrendered to him."

She eyed Jon warily. "I thought you crows stay there for life?"

"What are you doing so far from home?"

"Remember that man who left - that," Bran paused and chose not to say deserter. Instead he prompted Jon to the answer himself. They were reunited and neither one wanted to show any signs of disrespect by stating that Jon had broken his vows. Bran was certain that his brother had enough guilt as it was. "The man had stated that there were White Walkers," he added, "she says there are more."

"Should we believe the words of a wildling," Osric considered her.

"Should I fear an Umber who cares too much for his wine," she glanced at him. "I've heard stories of you and yours. You like to drink."

"I'm sure those aren't the only stories you've heard."

She smiled and shook her head. "Aye. Umbers are great warriors. Anyone who could out-battle an Umber is praised over the Wall. And I know it's been done before."

Osric smirked before turning towards Jon. "As much as Bran and Rickon may respect her. She cannot stay here. My father's Uncle lost his wife and daughter to the wildlings," he looked at Osha. "I'm surprised he hasn't asked for your head."

"I'll watch over Rickon then," Osha said to Jon. "I'll take him wherever you want me to, keep him protected, keep him safe. If the other Southerners don't take me, then I'll let them keep him. That's all you want, right? Is to keep him safe."

"We're not Southerners," Bran said.

"Of course not, little Lord."

"Why would you do that," Jon asked.

"Your family took me in," the wildling woman answered. "They were good to me when they had no cause to be," she looked at Jon. "What I say of those things under the ice are true, young crow. They're part ice. They've been sleeping and now they're up. They're coming."

"I've heard of them," Jon looked straight at her, remembering the stories that Sam had mentioned when he was at the Wall. "I've also seen the undead - the ones that cannot be killed with a sword."

"Only fire," Osha smiled at him.

"Those stories are true," Osric questioned, turning towards Jon before looking back at the wildling woman.

"I came here to go as far South as the south goes," Osha nodded. "There's nothing that we have that can stop those things under the ice. The undead can be stopped. But those things with blue eyes," she laughed and shook her head. "It's best if you get away from that, far away from that."

Jon considered things for a moment, considered what his next move was. This woman had kept them safe so far, surely, she would continue to do just that. If Bran needed something, he could speak through Ghost. It also seemed that he could look through the eyes of Grey Wind and see what Robb was doing. Robb and Nysa were wed. That must mean that Nysa made it out of King's Landing safely. He wondered what had happened to Arya and Sansa. Could Bran see through Nymeria or Lady? There were more questions forming in his mind.

"We stick to my plan," Jon said. "I'll write to Robb, let him know they're alive, tell him that I took them to Karhold to be safe. If anyone asks your Uncle," he looked at Osric, "he'll say that they're here. But no one should know, except for you and I what happened to Bran and Rickon."

As sated as she was, Nysa's senses were fast returning. Nysa didn't feel regret on her and Robb's love-making. She had missed it, the touches, the passion, the longing look in his eyes. Remembering Lady Catelyn's reunion with Lord Stark - Nysa wanted that. Lord and Lady Stark adored one another - she witnessed it. Surely, she and Robb could have that. She turned to look at Robb who had rolled onto his back. A small smile on his lips as he reached over and pulled her to his side. His head moved, and he pressed a kiss to her forehead before groaning softly in her hair.

"My King, the river Lords await. There is a funeral that needs arranging," Nysa whispered against his chest.

"We'll let my mother handle it," he moved to bury his head in her neck.

"She would appreciate it if you were there," Nysa said in a soft voice.

Robb sighed. "Aye," he replied and moved to leave. He rolled out of the bed and went to stand.

Nysa watched his movements. She should still be angry with him. She hated seeing Robb speaking to Jeyne. Of course, the rumors and whispers she heard had not helped at all. It only fueled her fury further when Robb feigned ignorance. Perhaps to him it was just a conversation. He didn't think anything of it. And that hurt just as equally. She wasn't sure what to do but to leave their bed and get dressed as well.

"Are you still upset with me, wife," Robb questioned gently. His tone didn't give way that he was angry, just frustrated.

"I think I am," she said as she pulled her gown close around her.

Completely dressed, Robb walked back to where she stood and took her hands in his. "Must we always argue?"

Nysa was quiet for a moment before pulling her hands slowly away. "You should use the grey cloak," she nodded before adjusting his tunic. "It will go nice with this."

"Nysa," he murmured causing her to look up at him.

"And of course, you'll look like a King," she smiled and went to fix his hair.

Robb tenderly took her wrist down from his head and held it in his. They stood there in silence, looking at one another. It wasn't long before Nysa's eyes began to water.

"Do you think her pretty?"

Robb closed his eyes and nodded his head. He knew it was not the response she'd want but he did not want there to be any more secrets. "She is pretty, but she is not you. You were the one who tempted me into bed," he smiled as Nysa blushed. "You became my beautiful wife and will remain at my side until the Gods end our time. I made a vow to you, Nysa. There will be others who will try to change that, but it won't be undone."

"Do you think about it?"

"Bedding another," Robb asked and Nysa nodded. "There are some who have encouraged the thought."

"Is it because of our fighting?"

Robb sighed and gestured for her to sit on the edge of the bed. "I will admit that marriage to you has not been easy as I thought it would be."

"You thought about what marriage to me would be like?"

"You knew how long I've cared for you, Nysa. We were best of friends in Winterfell. We could share everything with each other. There were times where we'd work on our lessons from the Maester or you'd help me with numbers," he shook his head. "I could not picture anyone else by my side, doing those things with me. I saw your strengths and faults, every day and yet," Robb lifted one of her hands to his lips, "And yet they would not scare me away from you. So yes, I have thought about what marriage with you would be like. And I liked what I saw, I wanted it. I still want it."

Nysa tore her eyes away from his and tried not to cry. "You and I were always good friends, Robb. I don't know how it went so wrong."

"War," he commented. "Torrhen," he suggested causing her to turn back to him. "It was wrong of me to bring him up, forgive me," he looked away then, but Nysa reached her hand up and pulled his face back towards her.

"We should talk about him," she nodded encouragingly. "I guess a part of me hasn't forgiven you or your mother. I still feel..."

"That we are to blame his death or the lack of justice for it," Robb finished.

Nysa shook her head. "That is the wrong type of thinking to have."

"But you thought it regardless," he smiled. "I am not upset about those thoughts, not anymore. I know that," he sighed. "I know that just because he is dead, and you and I are wed, it does not mean that your love for him has disappeared."

"That is a wise way of putting it."

"Well, I have a wise wife," Robb complimented her before kissing her forehead. "I guess I'll admit that I had hoped that it would, that eventually you'd realize that he was not coming back and that you and I were bond together. It's another reason why I decided to marry you in a Sept. I prayed that no one would dispute a marriage that was blessed by the Seven. The only one who put up a fuss about it though was the bride."

"Then I have not been a wise wife at all, in fact I have been rather foolish," she smiled at him. "Forgive me, Robb."

"You are always forgiven."

"I suppose with a foolish wife who constantly argues with you, it was easy to fall victim to the pretty eyes of another," she turned away.

"Nysa..."

"And it is your right," Nysa argued with a saddened expression - trying not to think of how Torrhen had promised that there would never be another. "Kings will take mistresses on. I should have expected it..."

"Not from me," he countered. "My father raised me better. He taught me honor."

"Jon," Nysa said his name softly - as if to contradict him.

"Can I tell you something," he asked gently and turned his body towards hers. "I spoke to my mother about the news regarding Bran and Rickon. During that conversation, Jon was discussed briefly. She didn't say the exact words, but it was implied."

"What was?"

"Did you know that I was born at Riverrun," Robb questioned with a small smile. "Somewhere in this castle, I was also conceived."

Nysa blushed. "Your mother told me," she nodded.

"Did you know that Jon is a few moons older than me?"

She furrowed her eyebrows, a bit confused - before remembering the truth behind his question. Jon's name-day celebration - though smaller than Robb's - was held before his.

"It would reason that if Jon was born before me, then most likely he was conceived before..."

"Before your father and mother were wed," Nysa finished.

Robb nodded. "I believe that my mother was informing me that Jon's mother was before their marriage. And," he cleared his throat, "you know that I've had women before."

Looking away quickly, she took a deep, calming breath. "Did your mother actually say that - that Jon's mother was sometime before they were wed?"

She decided not to dwell on his little admission. Lords often did bed maidens both before and during their marriage. She knew of Torrhen, knew of a few others, included her brother. It would do neither of them good if she chose to focus on what he did before they exchanged vows.

"No," Robb shook his head.

"Then how can you be certain?"

"I'm not. I just," he paused and sighed. "It felt like she had shared that with me for a reason. It happened rather quickly - the conversation of Jon. So brief, that I barely caught it," he shook his head. "But it was there. It was somehow an acknowledgement that my father stayed true to my mother throughout their marriage. And I believe that another reason for my mother to mention Jon - other than conversation about Bran and Rickon - was to somehow inform me that I am a married man now. Kingship or not, lordship or not - I should honor my wife, first and foremost. No other woman should come between that."

She smiled before looking away, thinking about that revelation about Jon, thinking about how Lady Catelyn subtly reproved her son - supported her good-daughter.

"Could I be honest about Lady Jeyne?" She nodded. "It was nice to speak to someone who did not want to run me through with a dagger."

The memory of her holding Jory's dagger, eyes shining with fury and determination as she pulled it back and aimed for his head would always be imprinted in his mind. How did it go so wrong? She thought of her actions earlier. Truth be told, she hadn't truly wanted to stab him with it. Not really.

Robb's statement got its desired effect as Nysa laughed then at how silly her behavior had been. He turned to her, delighted at the sound of joy coming from her mouth.

"I haven't heard you laugh like that since Winterfell."

"Mm," she mumbled. "I miss it. I pray," she sighed. "I pray that we were back there, all of us. I pray that none of this happened, none of this fighting and death and war."

"I pray for that too, but all of this happened regardless of how much we pray for it not to be so."

"I miss Torrhen."

"I know you do," he whispered.

"He's still there."

"I know."

"He shouldn't be, not when I am wed to another man, wed to you," she added as her hand lifted to rest over her heart. "You're in there too, Robb. I just let my anger consumer me and forgot about your feelings, our friendship. It hurt to see you talk to another, confide in, whisper to and walk with another."

"It hurts to see you think of another," he replied softly, trying to keep the conversation honest but light. "Though, that is no excuse for my actions earlier this day or any other day I made you feel unwanted."

"It is no excuse for mine either," she agreed.

"Perhaps we should start anew and forget about trying to hurt or anger the other," Robb suggested. "If it displeases you then I will not keep company with the other Ladies."

"I do not mean for you to go to such extremes. There are still arrangements to be made regarding surrenders and..."

"Okay then," he held her hand gently as he brought it to his mouth. "I will not keep needless company with other Ladies." He kissed her hand then leaned forward to press his lips to her forehead. "But I would want to know that you will make changes as well."

Nysa regarded him with a serious expression. "I want to make another vow to you tonight."

"Another vow?"

"You are not the only one your mother has spoken to," she stated. Robb nodded for her to continue. "I vow that even though things are not the same as they once were, that I will put forth my earnest effort into being the same Nysa that you fell in love with in Winterfell. I will do all that I can to restrain myself from disagreeing and arguing with you about decisions that you make - especially in front of your Lords." She looked down in shame. "You were right that they were your Lords first."

Robb began to shake his head, but she put up her hand to quiet him.

"It does neither of us any good when we try to outdo one another so," she paused, "I will endeavor to respect you, aid you and admire you as I once did. And I will refrain from comparing you to Torrhen Karstark."

He looked away and it was obvious that - despite her never saying it out loud to him, he knew she had thoughts of it - her comparison had deeply impacted him.

"I am sorry for that, Robb. But know this," she held up a finger, "I trust his father and his brother, I always have. House Karstark has always been loyal to House Stark. There were so many moons I spent in Karhold and do you know what the primary lesson that had been taught to me while I was there? It was how honorable House Stark was and the ties that bonded House Karstark to them are unbreakable. There is loyalty there, I know it. You have to give Lord Karstark a chance, Robb."

"I did not slight him because of your feelings for Torrhen."

"The other Lords talk of it and you haven't silenced it. I have to ask Robb, did..."

Robb sighed and answered, "I did." He kept her hand in his. "I did overlook him once we arrived in Harrenhal because I knew that that is where your heart was."

Nysa nodded in understanding. "Torrhen may be gone but House Karstark is not and neither is that bond between the houses nor my respect for that House."

Robb nodded. "I understand."

"I'm in this with you Robb. Anything you need of me, you just ask," she prompted as he leaned forward to give her another kiss - this time on her lips.

He smiled softly and touched her cheek. "Can I make a vow to you, now?" Nysa nodded. "Know this, my wife," he pulled her into his lap, "that on this night I vow to you that I will include you in the decisions that I make. I will consult you for your opinion on the matter and see what the best solution is before I settle on anything. I am sorry about sending you here to Riverrun just because I was upset with you. I could have handled that better. And I am sorry about allowing Lord Bolton's words to discredit you."

"He is one of your Lords and..."

"Regardless," Robb shook his head. "I didn't take you into account. When you argued about Ramsay fighting for the North before the Freys had departed - it made me realize that if I had just asked you for advice before the meeting or even after one, things might have gone better. With that being said, I will be honest about my feelings and thoughts as I want you to be honest with me about yours. I will be the same Robb that protected you and made you smile as you once did back in Winterfell. But," he held up his finger as she did causing her to smile widely. "Know that I am already deeply in love with you Nysa Stark."

"Robb..."

"Say it back to me when there isn't any doubt in your body, Nysa. That every part of you, body, mind and heart is madly in love with me. That's the only way I want to hear it," he insisted. "You are my best friend, my wife and most trusted confidant. Now you are my Queen. I will continue to prove my love to you so that you'd never doubt it. And I pray that one day you will do the same."

"I will."

"Good."

"No more secrets," she asked.

"No more," he confirmed.

"Then I have something to tell you, Robb."

Nysa pulled back and took his hand from her waist, moving it around to rest on her stomach. Robb waited for her to speak. After a moment he realized what she was suggesting. Slowly, he moved his hand around and noticed the swell, the change in her that could only mean one thing. His eyes darted back from where his hand lay to her face and then back again.

"Truly?"

Nysa nodded.

His arms wrapped around her, embracing her closely as he smothered her with kisses. She moaned delightfully at the sudden attack. That was when he decided that this time it would be different. Picking her up from his lap, Robb moved her back slowly against the bed and pressed gentle kisses to her cheek, her neck, the skin between her breasts until he reached her stomach. The swell was there, and he wondered why he had not noticed it before.

"Mine," he whispered, running his fingers over the material that rest between him and his child.

She took a moment to release a deep breath. The statement that she would have to accept -

"Yours," Nysa whispered in reply before pulling Robb up to kiss her lips. Yes, the child was Robb's. Nysa was Robb's.

They made love long into the night and again when the morning came. They spoke of matters - both important and those of silly nonsense. And once the talking had ended, the love-making began. They held each other, touched each other and smiled until the sun was high in the sky. His guards knocked on the door to their chambers many times. It wasn't until Arya had come pounding on the door that they decided it was time to leave their peaceful paradise.

"Grey Wind is snapping at everyone's heels," Arya shouted as they both laughed lightly. "If you don't come out right now, I'm likely to start snapping at the heels of your insufferable Lords, too!"

"Is this true," Lord Bolton questioned, holding the letter in front of him.

The guard nodded. "Your son confirmed it. Lord Stark's bastard is reclaiming the North for his brother. Ramsay had scouts and hunters at Hornwood, Ramsgate and near Karhold. They are speaking of Winterfell being rebuilt."

Lord Bolton snorted before looking away. "The King Who Lost the North," he huffed. "He will soon be the King who saved the North if his bastard brother succeeds."

"There's still a lot to do, my Lord. A lot more to do," he replied. "Let me go North. Let me..."

"No," Lord Bolton set the letter down. "Let that bastard fight the Ironborn," he smiled then, "let him clean up that place for me." Lord Bolton stood up and patted the guard before smiling at the rest of his men. "We'll head North soon enough."

"My Lord?"

Both men turned to see Walda Frey - now Walda Bolton - walking into the room. He secured House Frey by wedding one of Lord Frey's granddaughters. He didn't care what Stark's bastard was doing. House Frey would side with him and soon the North would be his. Not to mention, Bolton would have gained the respect of House Frey. They weren't fighters but they were enough of them to make a small army.

"Have my men take my wife to the Dreadfort," Lord Bolton turned towards Lothar Frey, "we will be heading North very soon. Do not worry about that, my friend."