"Gentleman and lady of the Council," Robb called as his closest advisors and the most important lords took their seats.

I wanted to stand behind him initially, but I chose to stand in the back, behind the lords and lady, watching Robb tonight. I thought if they could see my face during the conversations they might mistake it for womanly weakness, but in truth, I was utterly confused with what to do and did not want my expressions to change their true opinions.

"I've brought you together to discuss an urgent matter regarding the state of our camp," he explained.

"Aye," Lord Karstark spoke up. "It's high time for this."

"I agree," Robb returned simply although he was hardly about to bring up the conversation that man so desperately wanted to have.

"We had a shocking occurrence in camp – several of late," Robb went on. "Tonight, I want to speak of the one you do not know about: Theon Greyjoy's arrival."

Several breaths were sucked in or let out across the room in surprise at the name. This was hardly expected.

"Arrival?" one of the Manderlys called asked aloud.

"He returned to camp by his own volition," Robb continued, eliciting several more bewildered stares. "And now we must figure out what to do with him."

"What to do with him?" Roose Bolton asked in disbelief. "We string him up! He ransacked Winterfell. I would be happy to show you what we do at the Dreadfort."

I felt a shiver go up my spine at the thought.

"He did not ransack Winterfell," Robb replied calmly. "He ran away from the Ironborn people before they did that. There is no way he would have made it here if he raided Winterfell."

"He was part of the group, though!" Lady Mormont called.

"Yes, he was." Robb nodded.

"When did this happen?"

"Who knew of this?"

"What role did he play in the attack on Winterfell?"

"What if this is a ruse?"

The questions came fast, but through all of his replies, Robb remained matter-of-fact, and somehow as the questions and answers continued, most of those gathered began to calm themselves, taking a cue from their leader.

All but one.

"We can't have two traitors in camp! How can you, our king, stand there so calm while our homeland is torn apart and our chances for victory stolen out from under us!"

"Do not misconstrue my stoicism, Lord Karstark," Robb commanded, standing at his full height. His voice was just as tall, but still measured. It was only his icy eyes that began to give away his anger` . "I know full well what has been threatened, and I can promise you that I take no joy in what has happened to my home. But what I will not do is color your opinions on this matter. I brought you together for advice, sound, honest advice. I want to know what you all think. I know what I think."

"Well you are the king," Lord Karstark returned with a snide tone.

"And I shall make the ultimate decision," Robb returned pointedly. "But I want to hear your thoughts nonetheless although you are encouraging me question that decision, Lord Karstark."

Lord Karstark fell silent, begrudging his king's response. Robb was quick to action at times, quick to words and response, which served him well in battle, but tonight, he was as deliberate as I had ever seen him.

"Well, I think my opinion is clear. The Greyjoy boy should be strung up," Lord Karstark replied.

Robb nodded and looked about, "Any other opinions?"

"If the boy is as mussed, skinny, and weak as you say he is, he cannot be much use to us now," Bolton spoke up.

Robb nodded again, his lips a thin line, but as he turned to his other counselors, Bolton added, "But, if it means he walked this far to reach us, he is either a fool, or deeply devoted."

"That is a long way to walk," one of the Manderlys added.

"And what is the verdict of Plenair?" Lord Whyte asked, turning around to look at me.

I glanced to Robb for a moment, silently communicating to him that I did not want my feelings to be misinterpreted, as I felt the eyes of the council turned upon me.

"Unfortunately, the lord of Plenair is on a mission," I replied simply.

Lord Whyte did not look away from me, "I realize this. I want to know where his sister, the daughter of my old friend, stands. What do you feel should be the outcome from this matter?"

I bit the inside of my mouth. I had not intended to speak tonight, not on this. I had intended to listen and try to take the counsel of others, but I could not help but appreciate Lord Whyte's intent. At least where he and his men were concerned, my opinion was still vital.

"I cannot pretend to speak for my husband. I know he has his own opinions, but for him, your thoughts weigh heavily."

"But not for you," The Greatjon joked, eliciting the first laughs of the evening from the assembled council.

I grinned, letting the laughter cease as my lips fell into a line, "I believe Theon Greyjoy made a grievous error, but I know he fought with every fiber of his being to return to us, and I know he did not take Winterfell, and I believe that he will not make any such mistake again. He loves our people. He always will."

"Womanly sympathy," Lord Karstark muttered.

Maege Mormont raised an eyebrow at him, "What was that, my lord?"

"And you do not feel taking him back would harm the rest of the company?" Lord Whyte asked, pulling attention from the two leaders.

"I—"

The words had barely escaped from my mouth when I heard the yelling.

My eyes shot to Robb's in wild panic as I felt a deep emptiness grow in the pit of my stomach. He looked to me, his eyes softening as he realized what I was so afraid of.

"Will!" I could not keep his name from escaping my lips as I ran out of the tent. All I could think was that he must be hurt or worse. What else could cause the uproar?

As I drew further outside, though, I saw flames, and I quickly realized it could not be my brother. I felt a greater sense of dread not knowing where he was, but at the same time, knowing that Willem was not the one there was concern for, I felt a sense of relief, followed by a pang of guilt in wishing the ill to be on someone else.

"The south side of camp," The Greatjon stated, pointing towards the flames.

"Go!" I called and hurried towards the nearest tent, grabbing the closest weapon I could find – a bow and a few arrows.

When I stepped out, Robb and Grey Wind were running towards the flames.

"Lannisters?" Wendel Manderly asked.

I shrugged in response as we chased after our king to the outskirts of camp. I pulled out my first arrow, setting sight on a man who was still holding a torch. It had just hit him when a second pierced his chest. I turned to my side to see Theon standing in the woods. He dropped the bow and pulled out a sword as another man came closer to him, and I turned my attention to find Robb, felling two opponents around him with my arrows.

It was a poor showing to be truthful. The twenty men were either dead or captured within minutes.

"What in the seven hells were you thinking? Attacking our camp with so few?" Robb demanded, furrowing his eyebrows at one of the men, his mouth slightly open. He could not imagine anyone being so stupid.

"Robb." It was Theon who called his attention.

Robb stepped towards him as Grey Wind padded nearby. The council members watched with interest and bewilderment. I think they were every bit as surprised to see Theon Greyjoy for themselves as I was when he first came tearing out of the forest.

Theon cut a bag from the shoulder of the man he had stabbed only moments before. As it tumbled to the ground, small loaves of bread came falling out.

"Are they mad?" Robb asked. "They set fire to part of our encampment to steal food?"

"A diversionary tactic," Theon stated, nodding towards the men who were dousing the flames with water.

"A foolish one," Robb corrected him.

"You'd be surprised what you do when you are starving."

Robb's eyes stayed on his oldest friend for a long while, weighing the feeling of those words. Theon, for his part, just stared at the bread on the ground, not meeting Robb's eye.

"Greatjon," Robb called, turning his attention away from the Ironborn.

"Your grace?"

"Make sure no one kills him when he enters camp," Robb stated with a nod towards Theon.

Now, Theon lifted his eyes to Robb. His expression was surprised, earnest, thankful. Three words that so rarely described our friend.

Robb merely nodded to him and turned away as Lord Umber slapped an arm on Theon Greyjoy's back. It was a hard slap that nearly sent the Ironborn tumbling, but I knew Theon would appreciate the giant's company nonetheless.

As Robb looked back, I could see his eyes dart quickly to Lord Karstark muttering expletives in the background, but he steadied himself and looked to the rest of the Council, who seemed at neutral with the decision – or at the very least, not openly against it.

"Why are your men here?" Robb demanded to the small group of survivors.

None dared look at him, and Grey Wind's pacing did not give them comfort either.

"Speak." Robb commanded of one of the men.

He nearly leapt out of his skin as the direwolf stopped inches from him.

"Y-your grace. We were on the run. We were hungry. Our company was broken up at Stone Mill by Edmure Tully," the man explained. "We've been—"

"—Your company was what?" Robb demanded.

"W-we were part of Clegane's troops, and—"

"—And you were attacked by Edmure Tully?" I could see the redness reaching Robb's cheeks, his hands clenching into fists around his sword as he stared at the men.

"Yes, sir—err, your grace," the man corrected himself, looking even more nervous at Robb's growing ire and his direwolf's commensurate unease. It seemed with each breath Robb tried to control, Grey Wind's teeth grew ever so slightly less masked.

"Take them with the other prisoners," Robb stated, looking to Manderly.

"What in the seven hells was Edmure Tully thinking?" Robb demanded when the prisoners were out of earshot.

"He clearly was not," I replied simply.

"We march at dawn. We do not stop until we reach Riverrun, and Bolton, find out why your son has not secured Winterfell yet!" Robb turned a dark stare towards the older lord as he swept passed, Grey Wind falling into step.