"Your mother would not have hurt anyone," I insisted. I firmly believed that she would not kill Renly Baratheon, but anyone was overly stated. She would try to kill anyone who might murder her son.

"I know," Robb returned. "Still, she fled immediately after his death. We have no word from her. I have no idea how many men she has been able to take with her, if any."

"Did anyone else die?" I asked.

"No," Lord Whyte spoke up. "Just the Baratheon boy."

"Some say it was a phantom or some rot like that," the Greatjon added.

"How long ago did this happen?"

"More than a week. It seems Stannis arrived, demanding Renly's fealty."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "It's obvious then, is it not? This had to be tied to Stannis, who else would have the motive?"

"Arguably Lady Stark," Lord Whyte pointed out.

I returned a pointed stare, not wanting to admit that he had a logical argument.

"Watch yourself, Lord Whyte," Robb returned, his voice grating like gravel in his warning.

"Of course, we all know she would not, your grace," the elder lord responded.

If Theon had said the same thing, Robb would not have blinked an eye, but it was not the same with his other men. For a moment, I almost smiled, thinking that Theon would likely grow up to be a salty old man like Lord Whyte. The smile disappeared almost as quickly as it came when I remembered envisioning his betrayal. If he did betray us, I would never know him as an old man.

We hadn't heard a word from Theon, which made it seem all the more likely that my sneaking suspicion was right.

"What is this about?" Will interrupted my thoughts with his entrance.

It would have been a welcome distraction, but anger still burned just underneath my skin.

"You have much to discuss," I stated and turned to leave.

"Ana?" Robb turned a soft expression towards me. His eyebrows furrowed over his blue eyes.

I knew he didn't want to me to leave, but I still felt so much rage towards Willem. My stomach was twisting into knots, and I could feel the bile turning to venom in my mouth.

"I am positive that Willem can speak for the Samelsons and former Samelsons. He seems to think as much at the very least," I returned, glaring at my brother.

Will let out a long sigh, scoffing under his breath, as Robb turned a raised eyebrow to me. I knew from his expression that he felt I was being childish. I was in fact, but on occasion, I needed to be allowed to act my age.

I found myself walking silently towards Jaime Lannister's cell. He was standing, watching some men sparring in the yard. He looked utterly disappointed in every move they made.

"You think you could do better?" I called.

A smile slid onto his face before he turned. "I just need a sword."

"Better not."

"No, it would be extremely embarrassing for your people to see you taken hostage within your own camp."

"How did you become so confident? But a few days ago, you were in much different spirits."

"Perhaps I was inspired," Jaime offered. "It may be worth a try, picking up a sword again. What is the worst that could happen?"

"You lose the other hand," I offered too quickly.

The lion nearly growled in the dark stare he turned upon me.

"Be careful," he warned.

"You value it above your life, do you not?"

"Only once I learn to use it properly."

"We shall see how long that takes without a sword to practice with."

Jaime called after me, "Look before you turn, your grace."

"I need to take better care of knowing my surroundings," I replied, repeating advice he had once given me.

"Yes, perhaps if you did, you would not have that wound on your shoulder."

Now, I turned to face him.

"You keep a strong face, but I could see the way you favor it. An arrow was it?"

"Being apart from battle has not affected your sight for injuries." My deflection was poor at best.

"There is a poultice that should help it heal, but I imagine you know the proper mixtures. You've attended to many of your men and mine."

"I try."

Jaime nodded, "In another lifetime…"

"Sorry?" My eyebrows furrowed.

His green eyes looked down at me with surprising sincerity. "I think we could be friends."

I watched him for a long moment, feeling an ache in my chest that I could not explain. It wasn't sadness exactly or longing, but this overwhelming feeling that I would soon never see him again and that his kind words would be worthless.

"But as you've said so often, it isn't another life, Jaime."

"No, Analysa, it is not. But I do very much hope you outlive this. I think I can help you if you can simply survive when your king falls."

I met his eyes with strength. I realized that was some attempt to offer me solace, some kindness buried underneath his words, but I felt stronger after what I had seen. "We are going to survive, Jaime. My husband, my brother, and I. I have no idea how, but this much I swear to you: we will survive, and when your king falls, then I think I can help you."

I could see the fire in his expression as the corners of his mouth rose into a smirk; he appreciated the challenge. It spoke to me too, set my blood to fire. We felt the same: defiant, proud, and confident. He may have been the family of our enemy, but I knew there was something more to Jaime Lannister than met the eye and he saw it within me too.

"Just stay alive, Lady Samelson."

"You too, Kingslayer."

He let me walk away then.

I felt more alive in the cool air of the Riverlands. No longer burdened with the anger of previous conversations with my brother, but inspired by the oaths I gave. I would make sure all three of us survived. If nothing else, Robb, Will, and I would make it to Plenair.

"Oh my lady, such a pleasure to see you."

Robb sounded as childish as I did not an hour before. Night was falling. He would still need to return to the council and yet for the time being, he stole away to our tent.

His eyes were ice.

"Did you see me speaking with Jaime Lannister?" I asked, noting his bristling attitude.

He scoffed, "If that still angered me, I would have gone into a mad rage by now. I've let that go."

"Then what is it?"

"You walked away when I needed you."

I sighed, trying not to show the guilt on my face. "I did not think I would be helpful in that moment. Willem infuriated me."

"I wouldn't have cared if you just stood there. I didn't need your opinion, Ana, though I might have liked it. I just needed your support."

"I wasn't in a state to give support," I protested, but Robb just grew angrier, running his hands through his curly hair.

"We don't have that luxury anymore, Ana. You are my queen. You have to stay strong with me, you steel your emotions for our people, and I need to know that you will always stay by my side."

"So not even a momentary lapse?" I demanded, finding this utterly ridiculous.

"We can't afford it." His tone was exasperated and exhausted.

"Why not?" I could hear my tone rising.

"Because we are children!" Robb cried. "And they see that. Every time we behave poorly, they see that we are children, Ana. We may have seen far too much for our age, but they will never forget our age. I need you to be strong in front of them by my side every day."

"I'll be there," I swore, lacing his fingers in mine.

He nodded, "And I need you to be twenty years older than we are."

I stared into his eyes, searching for the right answer. Sometimes, my visions had made me feel older than everyone – knowing what was to come – but I failed here. I disappointed him.

"Robb, can I go with—"

"—No," he shook his head. "No, this Council I will do myself."

I watched him stride away, feeling the hurt cutting into my stomach.

"But tomorrow, we will see you then," he added before leaving the tent.

I understood his frustration, but I still bristled at the idea that I was entirely in the wrong. We had done remarkably well given the circumstances. Robb had not yet lost a battle. We had not yet lost the support of our people, but asking for us to be entirely without fault was absurd. It was a standard that I knew he felt he owed to his father.

Eddard was unlike any man I had ever known in that regard, but still, even he had lapses. Perhaps not while Robb could remember, but before, when he was young.

For a moment, a dark thought passed through my mind. Eddard Stark was too good to survive in this world. I knew Robb wanted to be like him, but I was starting to worry that he might have to disappoint his ideals on occasion just to live.

I lay in bed, trying to rationalize what Will had said to me. Every time I grew too angry, I would turn over and lie on my wound just to feel something other than rage. I went back and forth, asking myself whether my brother was truly being selfless or if he was afraid to fight.

Knowing Will, it was the former. Of course, he wanted to protect his family whatever way he saw possible, and his logic wasn't entirely flawed. Perhaps the two most important people in my life were growing up to be noble men like Eddard and my father. But would they do what it takes to win?

I didn't know if Robb were truly capable of deception and harsh tactics. Now, it did not seem Will was either, and I sincerely doubted that it could be me. But somehow, we would have to survive this. Somehow, we would survive this. I just didn't understand how yet.

The next day, the camp was alight with excitement as Catelyn appeared. She had with her only one guard, and it was not someone we had sent with her.

"Mother," Robb's tone was almost of disbelief in his happiness. I could see Catelyn's eyes well with tears as she hugged her son tightly to her.

"Ana," she added with warmth after Robb pulled away.

"We are so glad you are safe," I replied as I hugged her tightly.

"Do you have any news for me?"

I had almost forgotten about her request that she return to the promise of a grandchild, but now it reigned down upon me again.

I shook my head, "None except that we are still safe and that Bran is leading Winterfell with the strength reminiscent of his father."

She gave a small smile, "That is good news."

Behind her stood a giant woman with a stern expression. Her eyes carefully watched her surroundings and only fell on Robb and me when Catelyn spoke.

"Please allow me to introduce Brienne of Tarth. Brienne, this is my son, King Robb of the North, and his queen, Analysa. Brienne is the reason that I have been seen her safely to you."

"I thank you, my lady," Robb spoke up. "For protecting my mother."

"It was my honor, your grace."

"Lady Brienne, is there anything that we might provide to you as a thank you?" I spoke up.

"I wish only to serve Lady Stark."

I nodded, "Then, you shall. Can I show to your quarters? I am sure Robb and his mother have much they wish to discuss."

The woman nodded.

I led Brienne towards the middle of camp, trying to keep pace with her long strides. I did not ask her many questions, but as we walked, I grew curious about this armored woman. My father was thrilled to see that I showed an interest and a talent with a bow. He wanted me to know exactly how to use it and how to protect myself. Had Brienne's father felt the same, or was this something else entirely?

"Do you mean to fight for my husband and me?" I asked as we walked along.

Brienne was silent for a moment, "Your grace, I do not claim any faction but that of lady Catelyn Stark."

I nodded, "I understand."

Brienne said nothing, but I could already sense that she distrusted my response.

"We do thank you for your service, Lady Brienne."

"Please, I am not a lady," she interjected.

"No, a soldier. Like Maege Mormont, one of our bravest warriors and amongst my husband's guard."

Brienne regarded me with some surprise. "You have a woman amongst your King's Guard."

"Yes, he should have a second, but his wife is forced to join her brother in battle…" I added, not hiding the irritation in my tone. To be sure, that choice was as much mine as his, but it seemed everything was frustrating me today.

"I hope you might stay with us for some time, Brienne," I added, turning to look up at the giant woman when we reached a tent suitable for her. "And I thank you again."

"You fight?" she asked in complete shock.

"I promise there is a bit more to me than meets the eye," I replied with a smirk and passed along.