Disclaimer: Everything belongs to its rightful owners

Time trickled away on the Wall, and Stannis grew more and more restless. It was safe at Castle Black, but hiding away would not win Stannis the North, only war would do such a thing. And so she was not surprised when he demanded her presence, alongside Harlon, Jorello and Zosa.

"What does your men consist of?" Stannis asked

"Most are calvary, they fight with swords, some with axes," Jorello said, "Though I do have thirty mounted men, twenty of them archers."

"An archer cannot hope to hit anything when they ride."

"With a normal bow, perhaps." Jorello conceded, "But they carry double-curbed bows, and have some of the best aim I've ever seen."

"And what of these Summer Islander archers?" Stannis asked, "I hear a bow made of the golden heart tree can shoot an arrow four hundred yards."

"It is true." Zosa answered,

"Then I will take all of both your men to Deepwood Motte," Stannis said, turning towards Layla, "How many of your men would you have stay here as your guard?"

"Sixty perhaps," she replied, "The rest will gladly march with you."

"The wolf will stay here as well," Stannis said, "He does not listen to any other than you, I will not have him turn savage in battle and kill our own."

Though Layla knew that Greywind would never do such a thing, she was glad that Stannis did not see him fit to march. For he had spent too long by her side for them to be parted, and she doubted the wolf would take kindly to being ordered to abandon her.

"We march in two days time," Stannis announced, "Ready your men."

They others all solemnly nodded, before filing out of the room, each going their own way to relay the orders. But she remained, and Stannis gave her a questioning look, demanding she reveal why she thought herself above his orders.

"I will join you," she announced, "Aftr the babe is born, as soon as my health permits."

"No." Stannis responded, just as she knew he would, "War is no place for a woman."

"With all due respect, Your Grace, I led my men into battle and fought by their side, until falling with child prevented me from doing so." She said, "I have no intention of doing any less now."

"I will not permit it." He said, "You may join the camp, but that is all."

Layla simply lowered her head, before taking her leave. Stannis could say whatever he wanted, it did not matter to her for she would not listen. It had been too long since she had fought, and she needed to do more than merely watch the North be won.

Whatever peace her men had found at the Wall had been but a fleeting reprieve, for they would soon find themselves back at the mercy of the dogs of war. Not that they seemed to share her unease, many desperate to return to battle to reclaim the North

A part of her did rejoice in Stannis' departure, for she did so loathe his hovering presence. Since his arrival he had made to watch her every movement, and she did not miss how his men watched her, no doubt reporting back to their king. Or perhaps their priestess.

But she did not begrudge him his actions, for her had every right to be suspicious of her. If she was in his place she would not be trusting either. She held the key to the North in her womb, and she could quite easily move to crown her child once it was born, and take what little power Stannis had gained.

He thinks I plot with the Northern lords, she thought, that is why he will not let me write any letters.

Though he was not wrong in his assumptions. I have not told him of what Lord Manderly shared with me. Her exact reasoning for secrecy was not entirely known to her. Perhaps she had merely grown to comfortable among lies that truths were foreign to her.

These feelings of guilt did not last long, not when Greywind lept from the bed, letting out a growl as he bounded towards the door. Calling out to inquire the identity of the visitor, she was much surprised by her answer.

"Ser Justin," she greeted, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Though the wolf did not deem it a pleasure, considering he watched the man as a hunter watched their prey. Perhaps he knows of Ser Justin's desire for me, she mused, it seemed Jon was the only man he approved of wanting me.

"I thought I might bid you farewell now," he replied, "With the preparations for departure, I did not know if I would be able to see you before then."

"But why is it that you wished to say goodbye to me?" She asked, turning her head slightly as she looked up at him, raising her eyebrow, "Dear Ser."

"I wished to look upon your face once more, in case I am so unlucky as to never lay eyes on it again." He explained, "For I have not seen a face of such beauty in my lifetime."

Her lips upturned, as she moved to face her back to him so that he may think her less than caring, "And how many other woman have you professed such things too?" She asked, looking at him over her shoulder, "Do not tell me I am the only one whose affections you have sought to entertain."

"To say that would be a lie." He admitted, "And I do not wish to lie to you."

She very much doubted that. All men are liars, she reminded herself, and they will lie when it suits them, and tell the truth only when it suits them. Even so, he need not know of her distrust.

"If that is so," she said, pulling her draw open to pluck a handkerchief from it, "Then I think you worthy of this."

"You wish to give me your favour?" He asked, as she pushed it into his hand, "Is that not a bit forward?"

"I wish only to encourage you to safely return," she replied, "I do not wish to lose a new friend."

Yes, friend you shall be, she thought, unless it profits me to make you otherwise.

"I will wear it with pride," he told her, lifting her hand to press a kiss to her knuckles, "And safely return it to you."

"Good fortune in your battles." She replied, "We will see each other again soon."

"I look forward to it."

His sweet smile was all he gave her, before he left her once more, with only Greywind's judging gaze upon her. Am I such a horrid person to enjoy the attention of a man? Does Robb look down upon me in scorn?

But it mattered not how Robb would judge her actions. He was dead, and she would never receive his attention again, nor hear any of his opinions.

It was a solemn occasion as she gathered with the others in the courtyard, embracing each of her dear friends, who had so valiantly come to her aid. If they were to die fighting for her she would never forgive herself. And Harlon, her good-brother who now embraced his nephews, who had so loyally followed her to war and remained by her side.

They will live, she told herself, and we will win.

Ser Justin flashed her his most charming smile as he mounted his horse, a sight not missed by Jon, and Ser Justin in turn did not miss her glance towards the Lord Commander. If he suspected anything she knew not, for his smile did not falter. It never does, she thought, it's almost infuriating.

"They will return." Taenella assured her, linking their arms, "I know it."

"I do too."

Layla was glad that she had requested the woman remain at Castle Black, for she was no warrior, and would better serve as helping her in caring for her child once it was born. And it gave her a companion other than a wolf that did not speak, the sullen Lord Commander, and her young step-sons. Speaking of which, she drew the boys near as they watched their uncle depart, a hand on each of their shoulders.

"You will see him again soon," she said, "I promise."

And she would do everything in her power to keep that promise.