"You have been quiet this morning," Robb commented as I hurriedly readied myself for battle.

"I have never been much for talking before we fight," I replied simply.

Robb nodded, "No, but you have also never been this silent."

I turned back to him. For a moment, I wished myself back in Winterfell, imagining how if we were there, I would be able to just think about how handsome he was in his armor. Instead, when I gazed at my husband, I simply scanned for weak spots in the chinks that I wished he could shore up for greater protection.

I still knew he would survive at least until the Twins, but what good did that do. He could still get hurt. He could be killed afterwards. My visions were providing no tangible outcome other than utterly ruining my sleep.

"I will see you this afternoon," I promised, kissing him softly.

"You will," he swore his blue eyes meeting my brown with intensity.

He was leading the charge not long afterwards. My brother's men were to flank the far left side of the Lannister's men, coming up from just behind them and driving them back into the thick of battle. It was a chance for me to do something meaningful for the effort.

We had tree cover for much of our ride, keeping to the shadows, waiting for the screams. Once those started, we would move in, but it was oddly quiet for much longer than anticipated. We sat in the woods until the sun was just beginning to crest the Riverlands. Then, Carth gave the order to move in.

We arrived exactly where they were supposed to be, but when we got there, we found just a handful of men. Mostly, it was dead fires and pieces of tents left about the campsite.

"So much for my first battle leading our people," Carth sighed, mostly to himself.

"Perhaps you shall have another chance," I returned simply. Turning to some of our scouts, I added, "Scan the woods. I know you saw nothing before and it is not likely we would have been left alone in there, but check once more for signs of the army."

There would not be any. If we were to be ambushed, it would already have happened, but the Lannisters could not have gotten away with it, not with our scouts in the area.

I saw Robb walking with the Greatjon and Grey Wind towards a few prisoners. I kicked Chimera onward to catch up. It was as if my husband knew the sound of Chimera's hooves by now. We were still some distance when he turned with a relieved smile on my face.

"There was no battle, Robb. What could have happened to me?" I asked as I dismounted.

He hugged me tightly, "You can never be too careful."

"Careful has never been your strong suit."

"With you it is."

"The woods are clear,"

The Greatjon trudged behind us as we reached the prisoners, grumbling about not even having a moment to brandish his sword.

"Cheer up, my lord," I replied with a soft smile. "I am sure this will not be the last battle."

"No, I suppose not," he returned, brightening just a bit under my positivity.

In front of us sat a small contingent of men who looked very nervous as the giant direwolf padded around them, looking for any indication that someone might try to harm his master.

"What happened here? Is this a trap?" Robb asked. He rarely asked a question of his enemies that he did not already know the answer to, but in this case, he only knew the latter part.

"It was not a trap, my lord—your grace," the man corrected himself quickly in an attempt to keep his head. "They all left last night. Some of us…some of us were left behind due to an accident you see."

Glancing at the men around him, I could see that accident truly meant drunk. They all looked rather worse for wear and not simply battle-hardened.

"Our superiors did not feel we could face you, so they ran," he explained.

"Cowards," the Greatjon chortled, getting a few laughs from those around us.

Robb was not laughing, however. He did not enjoy war, but as I would soon learn, he liked preparing for and then not having a battle even less.

"Take them prisoner," Robb stated, swatting his hand through the air as though he were trying to physically push away his frustrations.

"No wounded to attend to I assume?" I asked as I followed him closely.

"Not many. You do not have to worry about helping them," Robb stopped by avoided my gaze. Irritation was scratched all over his expression in the corner of his eyes, the way he had fixed his mouth. It was hard to watch him without feeling empathy although at that time, I thought his frustration was silly.

"Why are you so upset, love?" I asked, reaching out to touch his face.

He let me cup his cheek as he looked back at me. "I thought if everyone were happy after a victory would help Theon's case."

"Better than a loss," I countered with a small smirk.

Robb smiled involuntarily, "Yes, I suppose so."

"So you want the Council to feel sympathy for Theon?" I pressed as we continued our walk.

"Yes. And, no." He shook his head, trying to figure out how to express his feelings in words.

He did not need to, though. I felt the same. Every moment that I wanted him to come back to us was met with a second moment of feeling so angry and betrayed by what he had planned to do.

"Perhaps the Council will help decide for you," I offered, wishing it would be that simple.

"No," Robb replied. "They will not decide for me, but I will know when they start speaking what I hope they will say."

Willem's P.O.V.

"Gods curse them!" I could not hold my tongue as I looked at the dead bodies of three of Robb's men.

"I did not like them much," Orland commented, looking at the individuals who lay dead in the road.

I glanced back at my friend. Orland was one of the best trackers I knew other than myself. I had taken with me a few of my most trusted and most deadly friends, leaving one behind at camp who could still lead my forces.

Although, truth be told, if it wasn't me leading those men, I thought it should be Analysa. I did not tell Robb this before I left. I could not imagine that would have been a very good conversation, particularly since I had little time to convince him with my excellent argument, but perhaps he would come to see it himself.

Doubtful.

"Do you think they went back to the rivers or kept to land after this?" Dorin asked. Dorin was one of the older men in our company, but his experience was an asset.

"If I were them, I would stick to dry land now," Orland replied.

"As would I," I agreed.

"Then, on we go," Dorin replied.

He passed by the dead bodies quickly as did the rest of my men. I did not blame them for a lack of sympathy. None of these men could be thought of as good, but still, as I walked by them, I could not help but wonder if that is what men would say about me when I was gone.

"We should split up," I interjected.

Dorin raised an eyebrow.

"I am intelligent enough to realize not everyone is as intelligent as me."

Dorin turned a greyed smile to me. He had been amongst our company for so long that I thought he might feel himself my closest family. Moments like this confirmed it.

"Well, you and Orland should keep to your path then," Dorin stated. "I can keep to mine. The rest are up to you, my lord."

I nodded to two of my men to go with Dorin. Orland and I would be on our own.

"You should take Robert with you, my lord," Dorin suggested, gesturing towards the youngest member of our company.

Yes, this man clearly felt he was family.

He did not want me traveling with fewer men than he.

"You're old, Dorin. You can use an extra hand," I returned.

Dorin watched me steadily. He did not appreciate what I was saying, but I knew he wouldn't argue as I moved to push the nearby boat into the river.

"You'll be more exposed. Robert's one of the best archers I've ever seen," I added quietly as Dorin trudged into the water with me.

"They'll make better time than us," Orland commented as we watched them move steadily down river.

Raising an eyebrow, I glanced over my shoulder as I began walking, "Oh, I did not realize you were so slow."

Tracking the Kingslayer and the giant woman was harder than we anticipated. They covered their tracks well, and there were no shortage of footsteps from highwaymen or other soldiers.

"Do you think we should split up," Orland asked in the early evening. He was crouched down to the ground, studying the tracks and trajectory.

I could tell we were gaining, but the tracks were started to wash away with the coming rain and it was growing more difficult to distinguish one group of footprints from the other. Our people had trudged through; Lannisters were walking about; and the robbers who still sought some gain out here.

Damn that woman's man-sized feet.

"We can't be far from an inn," I spoke aloud, mentally building a map of the area. No doubt it would be a horrible inn, but it had to be better than sleeping in the forest.

"No more than 5 miles," Orland replied, nodding south.

"I'll follow these prints. You take those," I said, pointing to two sets. They were smart about their steps. I would give them that, but that was all they would get from a Samelson.

"If one of us returns to the inn and the other is not there within the hour—"

"Then, we are likely dead," I returned.

Orland looked unamused.

"I will come for your body, though," I added with a good-natured smile.

"You are indeed the best lord I could ask for," he replied with a smirk.

"Mention that around Robb would you?"

"Yes, the moment I care to lose my position in his forces."

I shrugged in response, and readjusted my bow and arrows as I faced my portion of the woods. It was darkening certainly, so I would have to be quick and quiet as I made my way.

Being alone like this was actually comforting. It was the first time in ages that I felt like I had a moment to myself. The camp was loud, a constant barrage of noise and movement. Here, it was quiet and still.

I think I had almost dreamed it would happen like this. I would be seemingly stalking my prey; I would be alone when a soft crack was heard behind me in the brushes, following by something that almost sounded like a step. No one else would be hurt when they found me.

Yes, Orland was a great tracker, but I was better. I knew exactly what I was doing.