Chapter 2: Wards

A/N: A huge thanks to everyone who reviewed! We hope you enjoy this chapter.

Genna's POV – The Wall

Genna watches as the guard on duty paces around. She moved her dress so it exposed more of her cleavage and stood up, slowly and sensuously walking towards the bars that confined her. She placed her hands on the bars, feeling the ice melt to water under her warm touch. The guard simply watched her.

"Hey." Genna whispered, her voice low and husky.

"What do you want, wildling? The guard asked her, paying her no second glance.

"I'm a little cold. Think you could help me warm up?" She asked him, making her eyes appear as innocent as possible.

"In what manner?" The guard inquired, watching her.

Genna smirked at him. "In what manner do you think?"

The guard eyed her before making an internal decision. "I don't so prisoners."

"Really?" Genna asked, moving closer to him, her dress slipping and exposing her breasts more to him.

"Listen, wildling." The guard hissed, walking over to her. "I'm not sure what your little game is, but you lose."

Genna reached out and grabbed the guards throat, smirking as he struggled against her vice like grip. She used the water and ice that was on her hand, letting it seep through his skin and turn his bones to ice. She tightens her grip and heard the cracking of his bones before he crumpled to the ground.

"Actually, I win."

Genna grabbed the guards' keys and reached around, unlocking the cell door. She slipped out and snuck to the stables, taking a horse and quickly mounting it. She pulled a cloak over her body to cover herself before she nudged the horse forward.

Medea's POV – Bitterbridge

Medea trudged over to the other wearing a red dress with gold accents, but her mood was dampened by the bruise on her cheek that she was attempting to hide using her dark hair. The others were already seated, sitting laughing with Renly. Brienne milled around uncertainly, looking uncomfortable in her own skin.

Rosalyn walked over to Medea in a blue dress with silver accents. She seemed rather excited about all of this, an attitude Medea wished that she could share. "Hey!"

Medea offered her a rather strained smile. "Hi."

Brienne was looking at Renly, before she sighed and glanced away, something Medea did not miss. Loras was laughing at a joke Bryce was telling, and Renly was looking out at the feast with a grin.

"Are you not going to join us, Brienne?" Bryce called.

"Oh…" Brienne sat rather awkwardly.

Rosalyn noticed Medea looking at her feet. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." Medea made to tuck back her hair and then remembered the bruise on her cheek and thought the better of it. "How are you finding Renly's camp?"

Rosalyn noticed the bruise and reached out to Medea, frowning. "What's that?"

"Oh, nothing," Medea replied flippantly, taking a step back. "I just fell out of bed last night."

"Ladies!" Renly called across to them, as Loras glanced approvingly at Rosalyn, "Join us!"

"In a moment, your grace!" Rosalyn turned back to Medea, concern coming over her face as she examined her new friend. "Are you sure that's all that happened?"

"It is nothing for you to be concerned about," Medea replied in a murmur, noticing that her brother was watching her carefully. "Honestly, it's fine."

"Are you sure?" Rosalyn persisted, glancing quickly across at Bryce.

"Come on, ladies," Renly exclaimed before Medea had the chance to reply, causing Bryce to chuckle, "We don't bite."

Rosalyn still looked concerned, but linked arms with Medea and walked forward. The dark-haired girl wished that Rosalyn could care a bit less. She was getting a bit too close to the truth and it scared Medea.

"Sister, would you like some wine?" Bryce inquired as she sat down, drawing her from her thoughts.

"Just a little, please," Medea responded.

Rosalyn hesitated upon noticing the only seat left was beside Loras. He patted the seat with a smile, and she sat down cautiously. Renly had returned to joking with his men and Bryce was laughing loudly, clearing a little drunk. Medea was sipping politely at her wine, wishing she could be somewhere else.

Brienne leaned back in her seat, watching Loras. "Be nice to my sister."

Loras grinned. "I'm always nice."

Renly rolled his eyes. "You flirt too much, friend."

Loras laughed easily, glancing across at his king. "Does it offend your grace?"

Renly smirked and draped an arm around Margaery, who smiled and sipped at her wine in a demure fashion. "No."

"So sister," Brienne turned to glance at Rosalyn. "How do you like it here?"

"It's nice," Rosalyn replied with a smile. "Nearly everyone is great to be around."

Bryce couldn't help but grin proudly. "We are indeed a jolly bunch."

Loras clinked his goblet with Bryce's. "I'll drink to that!"

Brienne watched them both with a rather amused expression. "You two will drink to anything."

Renly laughed. "Very true, Brienne!"

Rosalyn turned to Medea to whisper. "They are the few not great to be around."

"Agreed…" Medea replied, although her heart wasn't in it. She simply swilled the contents of her goblet.

"Are you talking about us, ladies?" Renly asked with mock horror as Margaery excused herself for the night.

"No," Rosalyn responded with an innocent smile, prompting Brienne to roll her eyes and Bryce to laugh, taking another sip of his wine. Medea glanced across at her older brother with a frown.

"I think you've had a little too much, Bryce."

"Are you my mother now?" he retaliated.

"Gods know you need her to be," Renly drawled, glancing across at the knight, "Someone has to take on the job."

Loras ruffled Bryce's dark hair. "I can be his mother."

"I'm six years older than you!" Bryce protested hotly.

"With you boys, it's hard to tell," Rosalyn admitted, "I think that Medea and I are the oldest. And you of course, sister."

Renly looked scandalized and Bryce puffed out his chest in pride. "I am the oldest."

"Perhaps," Rosalyn conceded as Medea rolled her eyes, "But ladies are always more mentally advanced than men. So we are probably of an age."

"I doubt that, Lady Rosalyn," Medea responded, a small smile crossing her lips, "We are definitely older."

"A shame in a few ways," Rosalyn mocked a heavy sigh. "That probably makes us older than most men in the camp. I don't think I could be with a man younger than I…"

Renly glanced across at Loras, who fell silent, causing Medea to smirk and Rosalyn to look completely baffled.

"Huh?"

Brienne laughed. "They are insinuating something with you and Loras."

Renly spluttered with laughter and Rosalyn threw Loras a puzzled look, causing him to shrug.

"I don't understand any more than you do."

"He's too much of a flirt to be serious anyway, aren't you Tyrell?" Brienne teased as Bryce laughed with Renly and Medea sipped at her wine and refilled her goblet

"I'm not the only one!" Loras nudged Bryce, who threw him a scathing look.

"Excuse me!"

Rosalyn glanced between them with an amused expression. "You're both going to remain unmarried bachelors, I swear."

"Don't say that," Medea pleaded, "Then I would have to inherit the Marches…"

Bryce glanced at her sharply. "What's wrong with the Marches?"

"Nothing," Medea said hastily.

"Don't worry, I'd come visit you if no one else would," Rosalyn told her, patting her hand in a comforting gesture.

"I'd come with Rosalyn," Loras insisted.

Rosalyn arched an eyebrow. "You'd be with me?"

"But of course." He grinned deviously.

"In what context?" Rosalyn asked carefully, as Medea rolled her eyes, Brienne frowned and Renly and Bryce laughed, the latter so hard that he was almost crying. Medea stood up with a resigned expression.

"Bryce, you've had enough to drink. Bedtime, I think."

Renly smiled teasingly. "Yes, Bryce, go with your mother."

"I'll take him." Brienne stood, walking over to Bryce. "I feel like leaving anyway, I'm tired. If I may withdraw your grace?"

"Of course." Renly inclined his head.

"You truly don't mind?" Medea inquired, feeling a little disappointed as her excuse to take her leave failed.

Brienne shook her head, walking over to Bryce and helping him to his feet. "Come on."

"You didn't answer the question," Rosalyn informed Loras as Brienne left with Bryce and Medea took her seat once more.

"In whatever manner you please," Loras responded mischievously, waggling his eyebrows.

Rosalyn couldn't help but grin. "Still honorary brother then."

Renly burst out laughing, clapping his hands delightedly. "You were foiled, dear friend."

Medea smiled faintly, and Loras mocked hurt, pressing his hand over his heart in a very dramatic fashion.

"Oh, ouch…"

Rosalyn smiled sweetly. "Well, you offered to take on the position, don't you recall?"

"Well, let's let them work out their little lover's quarrel." Renly turned his attention upon the dark-haired girl, who was unusually quiet. "How are you, Lady Medea?"

"I am well thank, your grace," Medea responded politely, "And yourself?"

"Very well!" Renly responded jovially with a smile. "Enjoying the feast?"

"Yes, indeed." Medea offered him a small smile in return. "I find life at the camp very entertaining."

Medea nodded. "How fares your lady wife?"

"Very well," Renly inclined his head, "She is tired, however, and wanted to rest tonight."

Medea smiled. "Of course."

"LOVER'S QUARREL?" Rosalyn repeated indignantly, still aghast about the earlier comment, and Loras looked equally as stunned. "Wait wait, back up, what lover's quarrel? Who are the lovers here?"

Loras grinned. "I do believe he means you and I."

"You and I?" Rosalyn smiled teasingly. "Sorry, not into incest."

Loras smirked. "Of course not."

Rosalyn's smile quickly morphed into a frown. "If I didn't know you better, I would say you were insinuating something…"

"Good thing you know me better," Loras replied.

"So you are insinuating?" Rosalyn persisted.

Loras nodded. "Definitely."

Rosalyn patted his arm as Renly tried to hold in laughter. "Well, sorry to disappoint."

"Oh dear, Loras," Medea glanced over at him, "It would appear your so-called charms have failed."

"I think this is a first for him," Renly admitted as Rosalyn grinned and Loras mocked a pout. "You have my congratulations, Rosalyn!"

Rosalyn waved a hand. "He'll get over it."

"I don't know about that…" Medea feigned deep thought.

"I agree with Medea," Renly smiled.

Rosalyn glanced at them both. "He'll be fine."

Renly couldn't help but laugh. "Did Loras offend you before?"

"I never offend anyone," Loras insisted.

"Yes, he did." Rosalyn turned to smirk at Loras, who looked a bit wary. "You opened your mouth."

Renly roared with laughter, but Loras remained silent, glaring at Rosalyn. She grinned and reached over to ruffle his hair.

"Aww, my turn to offend?"

"By all means continue, Rosalyn," Renly looked amused as he glanced between the pair. "About time someone did!"

Rosalyn grinned. "Oh I shall."

"Why do you do this to me?" Loras mocked horror. "Am I really so terrible?"

"For fun." Rosalyn gave a neat shrug. "You're amusing?"

"May I take my leave your grace?" Medea inquired, standing up. The bruise on her cheek was aching. "I find myself tired."

"You alright?" Rosalyn was concerned as she glanced at her friend again. "Want me to come with you?"

"Oh, I wouldn't want to interrupt you having a good time, Rosalyn." Medea waved her hand dismissively. "It's fine."

"Are you sure?" Rosalyn persisted.

Medea nodded. "Thank you for your concern."

Renly inclined his head, giving his consent for her to leave. "Of course, my lady."

Medea waved and walked away. "I'll see you all tomorrow."

Genna's POV – somewhere near Riverrun

Jon sat under a tree a way away from the Stark camp. Robb stood beside him, an amused grin on his face as he watched Jon continue to sharpen his sword. He had been sharpening it for hours and Robb was beginning to grow tired of watching Jon do so.

"Isn't it sharp enough already?"

Genna was walking in the forest near where the two brothers sat. She was unaware of their presence and they were unaware of her. It had taken her a few days to travel this far south yet she remained awake and alert. She sported a quiver strapped to her back, bow in hand, and two daggers, one on each hip.

"What, are you worried I'll cut you into ribbons if we spar?" Jon grinned.

Robb returned his facial expression. "Never."

Jon let out a heavy sigh. "I'm on first watch tonight."

Robb nodded, feeling sorry for Jon, but only a little. The two boys still hadn't noticed Genna, nor had she noticed them. She ran a hand through her long dark locks whilst Jon sat down against a tree, watching the seemingly quiet forest.

"I'm glad you came back, Jon." Robb told his half-brother, smiling.

Genna fastened her bow to her back before climbing up a tree, not caring that strips of bark tore off as she did. Before she leant in the fork of one of the trees. She wasn't aware of anyone being around to threaten her. Jon, having heard the bark being stripped from the tree, stood up in alarm.

Jon stood up and looked around. "I thought I heard something."

"Like what?" Robb asked, looking at him in confusion.

"I don't know. Maybe it was just an animal." Jon sighed, sitting back down against the tree.

A deer casually walked past the three people, catching Genna's eye. She readied her bow and strung an arrow, aiming for the deer, which was half way between her and the two boys. She strung it back further and took aim, still failing to have noticed Robb and Jon.

Jon noticed the deer and gestured to it. "See? You should go to bed, Robb."

Robb nodded while yawning, unable to hold it in. "Maybe that's a good idea."

Genna released the arrow, smirking as it hit the dear in the eye, killing it instantly. She watches as its motionless body dropped to the floor before she noticed the two boys and climbed further up the tree, not wanting to be seen by anyone.

Jon stood up in alarm upon noticing the dead dear with an arrow in its eye. "What was that?"

"Someone shot the deer." Robb answered bluntly.

"From where?" Jon asked before turning around in a circle, having heard Genna. "Who's out there?"

Genna recognized his voice but chose to stay hidden in the tree.

"Jon, don't go out there. You could get shot next." Robb berated Jon as he tentatively walked towards the dead deer.

Genna decided to reveal herself and slipped from the tree, careful not to land with any noise. She ended up standing behind the two boys who had no clue she was behind them. They were too busy wondering who had shot the deer down.

"Well, what else am I supposed to do?" Jon asked Robb exasperatedly.

"Two young men like you shouldn't be out alone." Genna remarked, no emotion on her face or in her voice.

Robb whirled around to face her. "Who are you?"

"I could ask you the same question." Genna retorted.

"I'm Robb Stark, King in the North. I don't have to answer to you." Robb snapped at her remark.

Jon looked at the girl in front of him carefully. "Genna?"

Genna looked towards him. "Hello, Jon."

"Why are you here?" Jon asked her; curious as to why she would be so far south of the Wall.

"I didn't intend to come here." Genna told him.

"Where did you intend to go?" Jon inquired.

"Anywhere apart from the Wall." Genna answered simply.

Jon nodded. "Are you going to stay here?"

Genna looked towards Robb, uncertain. "I don't think your king would welcome me here."

"I welcome any who would join our cause, but how can I trust you won't betray us?" Robb asked her.

"You can't." Genna stated, she knew there were little to no people you could trust in a world that was as torn as this one was.

"She's just a wildling, Robb." Jon remarked.

"If she doesn't cause any damage she can stay." Robb told them both.

"I won't cause any damage." Genna assured him with a smirk.

Rosalyn's POV – Bitterbridge

Muttering and footsteps could be heard through the canvas of the tent that she shared with Medea, but that had been going on all afternoon. Rosalyn laid back on her camp bed and looked up at the cloth ceiling, making idle patterns with her hands. She cast a glance to the side at Medea, the older girl was staring contemplatively at some far off point in the distance, no doubt lost in her thoughts. Rosalyn propped herself up on her side, blonde hair falling over her shoulder, clicking her fingers to draw Medea's mind back to the tent.

"What do you suppose is going on?" she inquired.

"There are rumours that a Stark entourage entered the camp," Medea replied; focusing her amber eyes on Rosalyn.

"The Starks, it's strange to hear of them being so close. Normally they are shut away in the North beyond the Neck." Rosalyn stretched herself lazily, she hadn't left the tent for most of the day, and her muscles were feeling it, "They are probably discussing an alliance of sorts, I wonder how Renly will take it with the Lord claiming kingship over the North."

Medea sat up and grinned mischievously, "There are rumours of the Young Wolf too."

Rosalyn raised her eyebrows, "Oh? What kind of rumours?"

"They say he's very good-looking," Medea smirked, "Although you know how rumours are."

Rosalyn winked, "Good looking huh? Better than the rather handsome men you can occasionally find here?"

"Such as myself?" Loras Tyrell's voice sounded from where he was now leaning casually against the pole holding up the entrance to the girl's tent, "Don't let me disturb your gossip, ladies."

Rosalyn jumped and hurriedly straightened her skirts, "Loras! You might have announced yourself."

"I am announcing myself now," he retorted, "Renly wishes to speak with you two."

"Why is this?" Medea questioned; standing none the less.

"I am not sure," Loras replied, "But you'd best come along now."

"Anyone, anyone else could have been sent," Rosalyn muttered under her breath as she stood, blushing a little.

Loras cast a glance at her over his shoulder as he led them from the tent, "Handsome men, are we, Rosalyn?"

"Huh," she scoffed, "What makes you think that you were included in that?"

"Come on, lovebirds, don't take all day," Medea called back breezily; having already moved ahead.

"LOVEBIRDS!" Rosalyn exclaimed incredulously.

While Loras simultaneously scoffed and smirked, Medea merely smirked.

She glowered, "I am going to kill you in your sleep Medea."

"You wouldn't dare," the other girl challenged as they entered Renly's tent.

"I would," Rosalyn assured, "You need limits girl."

"Ladies, glad you could join us," Renly said, "What kept you?"

"Loras," Rosalyn replied instantly and without thought.

"It wasn't me it was them," Loras defended.

"I'm not sure who I am to believe, but no matter." Renly chuckled softly, before presenting his guest, "Ladies, this is Lady Catelyn Stark."

"Lady Stark," Rosalyn dropped into a curtsy in time with Medea, so that was who the strange auburn haired woman was, Rosalyn had heard a great deal about Catelyn Tully and her escapades.

"Hello girls," Lady Stark smiled at them, "You two must be Medea Caron and Rosalyn Tarth."

"Yes, my lady," Medea replied for the both of them.

"As you are both no doubt aware, Lady Starks son Robb has a host of considerable size marching south," Renly said seriously, "A host that would be a good ally."

"Undoubtedly your grace," Rosalyn replied; wondering where Renly was going with this.

"As such, we came to an... arrangement, but I would require consent from the both of you," he sent a sidelong glance at his guest, "Perhaps you would like to explain my lady?"

Catelyn Stark stepped forwards, "I was thinking perhaps two lovely young girls such as yourself would make fine wards. You could accompany me to the Stark camp, where you be treating as befits your status."

"What do you say?" Renly inquired; looking between them both.

"Umm..." Rosalyn was hesitant, but overall that was just nerves, she looked over at her friend, "I can see no issue, Medea?"

"I accept, your grace," Medea said firmly, "I think it would seem a wise idea, as opposed to warfare."

Renly clapped his hands together, "I am glad you both agree, you will be missed here no doubt, the Northerners have made some lucky new companions."

"Thank you your grace," Rosalyn laughed; some things about Renly would just never change.

She looked at her friend again, noting that worry was flickering in her eyes, worry that Medea tried to hide as always. No doubt she was apprehensive about going North, and she was probably also worried about how her brother would take it. Rosalyn wasn't quite sure what to make of Bryce Caron from the little she knew him, he seemed nice enough she supposed.

"Of course, once the war is done, you two will be free to go wherever you wish," Catelyn's words brought Rosalyn back from her thoughts.

She nodded, "When would we leave?"

"I would be honoured if you remained the night lady Stark, rest yourself," Renly said quickly.

"Thank you, Lord Renly," Lady Stark replied with a grateful smile that he returned, then she turned back to Rosalyn and Medea, "I believe we leave tomorrow, girls."

"Alright," Rosalyn looked to Renly and dropped a curtsy, "Might I have leave to find my sister your grace?"

He waved his hand dismissively, "Of course, Loras, help her?"

She frowned, help from Loras Tyrell was not something she was after. Despite the fact that he was undoubtedly one of the most handsome men she had ever seen, and the fact that he seemed to flirt on occasion in a way that made her unsure as to whether he was joking or sincere, she did not miss the way he and Renly acted together. Developing feelings for someone clearly already in love was always going to be a bad idea, she knew that much from common sense, and from seeing how her sister adored Renly himself. That would be quite the god's joke, each maiden of Tarth in love with a man, those men in love with each other.

"I think both of your siblings are down sparring, actually," Loras said, "Shall I take you too, Medea?"

"That may be a good idea," Medea agreed.

"See you tonight ladies!" Renly called as they left, "We shall have a feast in honour of you both."

"Thank you your grace," Rosalyn replied as they left the tent; linking her arm through Medea's and whispering softly, "I am so glad you are not leaving me with him."

Medea laughed as they walked down to the practice fields, "Oh, anytime."

"Now now ladies, no whispering," Loras chided.

"Well we don't want others hearing," Rosalyn shot back, "That's kind of the point of it."

"It's terribly rude!" Loras exclaimed.

Bryce walked over to them, "And you would know all about rude, wouldn't you, Tyrell?"

"He's the expert on it," Rosalyn agreed; smirking.

Brienne laughed as she also made her way up to them, "Tyrell, just how badly did you offend my sister this time?"

"I haven't done anything!" Loras protested.

"Of course not..." Bryce sounded skeptical; something that contrasted with the wide grin on his face.

Rosalyn smiled sweetly at Loras, "See? Even your comrades don't support you in this regard."

"I am their commander," he stated; puffing out his chest importantly, "They ought to be more respectful."

Bryce chuckled at this; clearly working hard to keep it to that and not an outright laugh.

"Yes commander, we are most apologetic, we shall never agree with the truth again," Brienne's deadpan sarcastic tone made Rosalyn splutter with laughter; Medea at least managed to retrain herself to a smile.

But then the guilt settled in that she was going to be leaving her sister soon, she looked up at Brienne, "Umm... Medea and I are leaving tomorrow."

"What?" Bryce demanded sharply; sending a glance at his sister, "Since when?"

"Catelyn Stark is taking us as wards," Medea explained; making Brienne gape a little.

"It was decided just now, we came to see you two straight after," Rosalyn put in quickly; hoping to ease the elder sibling worry the two were feeling.

"Is there a reason for this?" Bryce questioned.

"It will mean peace between us and the Starks," Medea replied calmly.

"Surely there should have been more warning!" Brienne protested, "Tomorrow morning? It's far too soon."

"We're at war sister," Rosalyn reminded in dry tones, "Warning isn't a big issue."

"She's right," Medea agreed, "We could have even been leaving today."

"Good thing you're not!" Brienne exclaimed.

Rosalyn simply had to laugh at the mild panic on her sister's face, "We would've said goodbye!"

"Of course you would've!" Bryce said; ruffling up his sister's hair.

"Hey!" Medea protested; swatting away her brother's hands.

Brienne grinned at Rosalyn, slight glint of mischief in her eyes, Rosalyn watched her sister wearily, "Don't even think about it."

Medea scowled at her brother as she put her hair back to rights, "Don't touch the hair."

"Someone's vain," Bryce teased with a smirk.

"Have you tried getting hair into a style like this and keeping it?" Rosalyn questioned, "Go on, grow your hair and I DARE you to try it."

Loras grinned and gestured at Rosalyn, "It's like a blonde nest anyway."

"Don't make me hurt you Tyrell," she threatened with a glare; ever the supporting sister, Brienne merely laughed.

"I doubt you could," Loras said confidently; smug smile in place on his handsome face.

She narrowed her eyes, "Don't test that."

Bryce shook his head despairingly and laughed, "Do you two ever knock it off?"

"I don't think so..." Brienne said.

"It's his fault!" Rosalyn defended; truly, he started it, or at least started aggravating her first.

"How old are you two again?" Medea inquired; laughing.

"Oh shut up," Rosalyn muttered, "You are only a year older!"

Loras took the chance when she had turned from him to Medea, to sneak closer and ruffle her hair.

She turned on him with a scowl; slapping his hands away angrily, "What did I say about the hair?"

He merely chuckled and winked, ignoring as always the glowing looks she sent his way, as everyone laughed with him.