It was a clear Northern morning when Talisa walked out of the keep just to be in the main courtyard. There was always a flurry of activity. Men-at-arms training, the women chattering about with their chores, be they slaughtering chickens for the cooks for sweeping snow and dust away from the roads, or Mikken, the blacksmith, hammering away at horseshoes or even blades. It was like a tiny version of Volantis, or what Volantis should be, without slavery. Her husband's family, they knew everyone and everything. They were rulers of the North, rulers of Winterfell, but Arya was respectful to all the elders and got along well with the other children, while Catelyn ran about her usual duties as the lady of Winterfell. A lord once joked that Catelyn should have been titled the Queen Mother, but since she was unused with such a title, Catelyn dispensed with it. She told the lord that she was always meant to be Lady Catelyn Stark, and so she would remain until the day she died.

"When I first came up here, I was so scared," Catelyn told Talisa when she joined her daughter-in-law. "The people were strange, the weather was cold... even the Gods were different. Ned tried to accommodate me, he built a Sept for me in the keep, even. You're doing so much better than I did."

Talisa smiled. "In Essos, people worship thousands of different gods," she explained. "The Red Priests worship the Lord of Light, which some call the Red God, Braavosi Faceless Men worship the Faceless God, which they say is the God of Death of all religions... Those in Slaver's Bay worship the ancient harpies of the Ghiscari Empire... I am used to the notion of different gods, Mother. Seven Gods or an infinite number of Old Gods, they protect us, they bless us. It is enough for me."

"We are blessed then, to have Queen who is so worldly and yet so humble," Catelyn told her. "The people will love you in time once you get to know them. The lords are already calling you 'Queen Talisa' instead of just 'Your Grace' now. It's a good sign."

Yes, Talisa noticed that change too. She was happy that they did so. It meant that they were slowly starting to trust her. When she first knew that she was pregnant she begged that they would love her child, more than they loved her. She did not need their love, she needed them to love Robb and their child. She was thankful that they had begun to include her as well. "I am lucky that they finally approve," she smiled, caressing her bloated womb. "Then I'll have no worry for this little one when he or she enters the world."

"Robb prefers a daughter," Catelyn said. "He says that it gives you the chance to try for a boy later."

"I would prefer a boy," Talisa said. "So that we might try for girls later. I envy Prince Oberyn. He has eight daughters..."

"Sansa writes that the other six are lovely," Catelyn said. "That they were all willing to have her as their stepmother thanks to her... arrangement with Ellaria. They are also teaching her to use a dagger so that she might protect herself... A lifetime ago, this life would not be one I planned for Sansa, but now she is happy."

"My parents thought that they would marry me to the grandson of one of the other Triarchs," Talisa said. "But, here I am in Winterfell. Destiny is a strange thing, is it not?"

"Yes, it is," Catelyn said, but her eyes did not fall upon Talisa, but upon the riders that came through the gate.

Talisa saw that Catelyn's eyes were widened. She knew not why, but she began to call the men-at-arms to attention. Seconds later, she saw that the riders were bearing sigils that she had not seen before. It was a white falcon next to a crescent moon upon a blue field. Catelyn instantly recognized it but she did not.

"It's House Arryn," Arya explained when she came out of the Keep with her newly-returned direwolf, Nymeria by her side. "Mother's sister, Aunt Lysa, married Jon Arryn, the Hand of the King before Father was. Father and King Robert were fostered by him before the last war."

"Where does House Arryn serve in this one?" Talisa asked Arya.

Sadly, Arya shrugged. "I don't know," she answered. "The Hound was going to ransom me to Aunt Lysa, but he turned to Casterly Rock instead after Robb took it."

"Who is the rider at the front?" Talisa asked him. "He is the only one who bears the sigil of a mockingbird."

"That's Littlefinger!" Arya exclaimed. "What's he doing here?"

Talisa shook her head. There was something... inherently unwholesome about this man. His smile was kind, but it was purposeful.

"Lord Baelish, welcome to Winterfell," Catelyn said cautiously. The last time she had seen him was in his brothel in King's Landing, where he had told her and her late husband that the dagger that was used during Bran's assassination attempt belonged to Tyrion Lannister. It was a claim that she had pushed and one that the Imp had denied when her sister Lysa had him tried in the Eyrie. Now, she actually wondered if Tyrion Lannister really was the one who tried to have Bran killed. Whatever he told her could have been a lie, and if she had not abducted Tyrion Lannister to the Vale, his brother Jaime would not have ridden against the Riverlands... So much had ridden on what he had told her and how she and Ned had acted afterwards. "We didn't expect you."

"He looks as if he's going to swallow Mother whole," Talisa whispered to Arya. "Who is he?"

"Lord Petyr Baelish was fostered at Riverrun," Arya whispered back. "He grew up with Mother and Aunt Lysa. I don't know anything else other than he was the Master of Coin when Father was the Hand."

Littlefinger got down from his horse and kissed Catelyn's hand. "Nor did I expect to come, Cat," he said. He then turned towards Arya and Talisa. "Princess, Your Grace, I give you my greetings, or as you might say in Essos, Valar Morghulis."

"Valar Dohaeris, Lord Baelish," Talisa greeted cordially while Arya barely gave him a nod. "Please come in. It is far too cold to be standing in the courtyard."

"Thank you, Your Grace," Littlefinger said, removing his gloves as they entered the keep. "My ancestors were from Essos, you know. My great-grandfather sailed from Braavos to the Fingers, and we try to remember our roots as much as we can."

Talisa smiled at his words. It was a reaction a man like him expected to see and she would give it to him. "Such a notion warms the heart, my lord," she said. When they entered the Great Hall, Talisa sat on her chair while Catelyn sat on hers. Robb's makeshift throne was left empty and Arya stood next to Catelyn. It was no secret that Winterfell was held by the bulk of Robb's Northern Army, but was led by the three Stark women, or rather, two and a half Stark women, because Robb was at the Wall, trying to fend Wildlings. Arya Stark was still a child, not yet ripe for any more plots or any piece of action. However, Littlefinger did find one anomaly in Winterfell. Sandar Clegane, the Hound was there, lurking in the shadows.

Food was brought to Littlefinger, along with warming beers and cheese. He ate sparingly while the women watched. They were silent, but all of them were watching him. "Tell me why you are here, Petyr," Catelyn coaxed him, speaking as though she carried heavy stones in her chest.

Littlefinger heaved a deep sigh, casting his eyes away from Catelyn's. "I am terribly sorry, Cat, your sister Lysa... she is dead."

Instant shock took Catelyn, and Arya immediately hung onto her. "It can't be!" Catelyn replied. "She... she was just fine when I was in the Eyrie! How could she leave her son so suddenly?"

"I am afraid that Lysa became... unstable even before I set out to the Vale to marry her," Littlefinger said. "Poor Lysa almost pushed Sweet Robin through the Moon Door, the lords of the Vale had no choice but to pry Sweet Robin out of her hands. When she realized what she had done, she was so overcome with regret that she threw herself down." There were tears dropping from his chin, and seeing them, Catelyn buried her hands in her head. In a short amount of time, she had lost her husband, her father and now her sister, while the safety of her youngest sons could not be confirmed...

Talisa gently squeezed Catelyn's arm. If Littlefinger was married to Lysa before her death, would it not mean that the Vale was his to rule now? If Lysa Arryn's son was still too young to rule then... his word would have been law.

"You have come all the way from the Vale to tell me this?" Catelyn asked Littlefinger. "A raven could have sufficed."

"I knew that I should be the one who delivered such news to you," he added. "Cat, we grew up together, the three of us. The pain I felt when my beloved wife committed suicide was real."

"Where is her son, Robin now?" Catelyn asked him.

"He is safe with Lord Royce," Littlefinger answered. "The Lords of the Vale are loyal to their lord."

"For how long?" Catelyn asked. "Robin is weak and still a child. If they turn on him, who would defend him?"

"I am the Lord Protector of the Vale, Cat, they will not turn on him."

So, the tiger had finally revealed its stripes, Talisa mused. "Will the Vale offer aid to the North?" Talisa asked him directly. "If so, what will be the price?"

Littlefinger smiled widely, whatever sadness he had for his late wife utterly erased. "That would depend, Your Grace, on what kind of arrangement we get into."

"You have to make sure that you'll come back alive," the Blackfish told Robb just before he was going to ride to the lands beyond the Wall with Jon and the Night's Watch. "Your mother and wife will have my head if you don't."

"Don't worry, Ser Brynden," Obara said, "Nym and I will take care of His Grace."

The Blackfish nodded towards the Sand Snakes. "I'm counting on you two, sweet girls," he told them, acknowledging Obara's pledge. They did not like being called ladies, being Oberyn Martell's bastard daughters, so he had called them "girls" although they were at an age long past girlhood.

"I'll be fine," Robb protested. "Besides, who is going to look for my brothers if Jon is busy killing off his mutineers?"

The Blackfish rolled his eyes. "I can't argue with you, and you know it," he said.

"I wish I could come with you," Theon said. "But... I won't be able to face them."

Robb nodded and clapped Theon's shoulder. "You will guard Queensgate with Uncle Brynden, Theon," he instructed. "If anything happens... ride like hell to Winterfell."

Theon was silent, understanding ever single implication of his orders.

Just then, Jon came up to them. "It's time," he said, giving Theon a great nod to acknowledge his presence there. "Come on."

"We'll go wherever you go, Prince Jon," Nymeria quipped, clearly enjoy teasing him before his family.

Robb had chuckled, while the Blackfish merely shook his head. "Go with the Gods."

Together, the raiding party rode into the only cavern in Castle Black, which opened for them on both sides, with Grey Wind beside Robb. He would hardly be the first Stark to venture beyond the Wall, nor the first Northern King, but for whatever reason, his heartbeat increased in speed, for the sheer reason that he was going into the wilds for the first time of his life. Even Obara and Nymeria, who were well-traveled thanks to the freedoms they were given by their father, were utterly awed by the vast expanse of snow before them. The winds bit straight into the bones, and they rode.

"It's beautiful," Robb said to Jon. "It's all white and cold but..."

"There are lands beyond these mountains, lands that are still green," Jon told him. "All of them under the control of Mance Rayder, and they are fleeing them."

"Why?" Robb asked. "Only war and death waits for them if they come for the Wall."

"There are fates worse than death if they stay," came Jon's reply. "Mance Rayder and his wildlings are fleeing the White Walkers. Sam has seen a whole horde of them walking in the snow, some atop dead horses. Before Lord Commander Mormont brought us out the first time, I killed a wight that was one of us. They're real, Robb. As real as you and I."

"You mean, the man that Father executed back then, he was speaking the truth?" Robb asked in return.

"You'll have to see them to believe it," Jon said. "And pray hard that we don't bump into some today."

Robb nodded and looked towards the Sand Snakes, who huddled deeper into their voluminous fur robes that Catelyn had given to them before they set out to the Wall. They only managed to give him quick nods, being too cold to do anything else. It was understandable that they would feel so cold. They were grew up in the Dornish deserts, and would most probably freeze in the North while Northmen would scorch in Dorne.

However, the blizzard only lasted for awhile. In an hour's time, the skies were already clear and they were reaching Craster's Keep, which would be in the clearing beyond the woods. They got off their horses while Jon sent one of their own to scout around the area.

"So, who is Craster?" Robb asked Edd. "What does he do around these parts?"

"You should be askin' who was Craster, Your Grace," Edd said. "He was a Wildling that held this keep with his girls until Karl turned on the Lord Commander and killed him too. He fucks the girls and when they give birth to sons, he has them put the boys in the woods as tribute to their gods."

"Charming," Obara commented.

"It is, isn't it?"

"So, the boys would just disappear?" Robb added, more interested in the fates of the boys. "How long has Craster been doing that?"

Edd shrugged. "No one knows, Your Grace," he replied. "Maybe the wolves' got them, or some other beast. No one really knows."

"And Gilly and her son, they escaped such a fate," Robb continued.

"That's because Sam was being a right idiot to bring them with 'em..."

Before Edd could add anything to his statement, a Brother came back with a bit of a wheeze. "I counted 11 men," he reported. "Most of them already drunk, without a care in the world."

"Karl was a top paid cutthroat in Flea Bottom," Jon proclaimed, mentally measuring their stakes. Robb had always been the better fighter between them, so he was not too worried about Robb, or the Sand Snakes for the matter. Even so, he knew that they could not underestimate thier adversaries. "I've seen what he can do with a knife..."

"New moon tonight," Grenn said, looking towards the skies. They had just barely passed noon, Robb cast a look towards Jon that only a brother could decipher.

"Get some rest, all of you," Jon said. "We move at sundown."

For the remainder of the day, Robb looked into the keep, trying to get a good feel of it there. The men there were despicable. The women were abused left, right and center, their cries only incensing the Sand Snakes further.

"How can the Night's Watch allow such cruelty to continue?" Obara asked the Black Brothers. "Even if they weren't mutineers, these women were abused thus by their father, no?"

"Wildlings keep to their own ways," Jon reasoned. "Like you Dornishmen, Obara." Obara took those words as her cue to start being quiet. "Are the Sand Snakes always so..."

"The Dornish have great freedoms," Robb explained. "But they value consensual... relations the most, between man and woman, or even those of the same sex."

"Charming," Jon repeated in the same manner as Obara had spoken.

"They grow on you, these two," Robb said. "Just give'em time."

Jon rolled his eyeballs. It was going to be a long time till sundown, and the Sand Snakes were already restless.

Bran knew that the keep was being attacked the moment the sound of steel clashing could be heard even from the outside. Karl and his lackeys were just about to hoist Meera onto a hook from her thick furs, threatening to rape her when Karl decided that Meera was no longer a fitting prize, but he was.

With his bare hands, Karl dragged Bran into the fray. "Snow! I know you are here!" he shouted. "If you don't show yourself, the boy dies!"

"Jon... stay away!" Bran shouted, seeing men dressed in black fighting against other men dressed in black. If Karl had reacted the way he had, his guess that Jon was there could be true. "Don't come near! I'm fine!"

"Put Bran down, now!"

The voice was not Jon's but Robb's.

"Robb!" Bran exclaimed, both in surprise and in relief. "What are you doing here?"

"Saving you," Robb replied. "Put my brother down and you will be richly rewarded."

Karl spat into the snow. "You highborn folk never keep your promises," he said. "What's to stop you form going against your word if I do?"

"Bran, get down!" Robb shouted, and Bran started to struggle against Karl, so much so that he fell face down into the snow.

"Come back here, you..."

A roar came from behind Robb, and when Robb ducked, all he saw was a great grey wolf pouncing towards him. Bran recognized the wolf as Grey Wind, already at Karl's windpipe, crushing it between his powerful jaws. Karl was dead within seconds.

"Thank you, Grey Wind," Bran thanked when Grey Wind whimpered towards him. His brother's direwolf was bigger than he remembered, though.

"Bran, are you alright?" Robb asked him despite the chaos around them. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," Bran said as Robb set him on Grey Wind's back.

"Mother will be so pleased when she finally sees you," Robb said. Just then, he realized that something was amiss. "Wait, where's Rickon?"

"I sent Osha to bring Rickon to the Last Hearth," Bran said. "I've not seen them since."

"That's a good call," Robb said, ruffling his little brother's hair. "Mother's going to have a field day when she gets to you."

"I'm not going back, Robb," Bran said.

"What?"

"I can't," Bran continued. "You have to understand... I have to visit the Three Eyed Raven beneath the great weirwood tree. It's the only way I can learn how to warg properly... Sansa's a greenseer, isn't she? I'll teach her how to use her powers when I'm done... Maybe she'll be stronger..."

"What do you know of Sansa?" Robb asked Bran.

"I saw her... in a fighting pit. People were dying everywhere and they were trapped and a dragon, a red one, saved them..." Bran answered. "I couldn't understand what I saw, but I understand that she's getting weaker..."

"Mother will kill me if she finds out," Robb told Bran. "Is Hodor with you?"

Bran nodded. "We're with Jojen and Meera Reed," he added. "Jojen's a greenseer too."

"Alright, you do what you need to do," Robb told him. "Tell me where to go so I can see that all of you are safe."

"Did you see the boys?" Nymeria asked Obara, who shook her head and flung her spear towards the last mutineer in sight.

"I've not seen them anywhere," Obara replied. "Only crying women and dead crows."

"They've got to be here!" Jon exclaimed. "They've nowhere else to go! We need to look harder!" When it seemed like the battle had died down, Jon seemed to have heard a familiar sound. "Where in Seven Hells?" he shouted, his expression brightening when he saw what was approaching him. It was Ghost. "I missed you, boy."

The moment he touched Ghost's head, he felt as if his eyes suddenly bolted upon even if they already were. He could see Robb standing next to Hodor, who was carrying Bran, and two other children with Grey Wind and Summer. He could see Arya in Winterfell holding court with Lady Catelyn, Robb's wife and Nymeria with a strange guest and Sansa with Lady in Dorne, in the arms of her husband. Last but not least, little Rickon with Shaggydog in an unknown keep while a wildling woman cooked and cleaned...

All of them had paused what they were doing, the six Stark scions, in various parts of the world. At that moment in time, they realized one thing: that they were now reunited, and that Sansa and Bran were not the only ones with the gifts of the Old Gods.

"Jon, Jon!" Nymeria called towards him. "What happened?"

Jon shook his head vigorously, as though it would bring him back to the real world faster. When he raised his head, he saw Robb coming back towards them with Grey Wind. "I think Robb felt it too," he said, gesturing his head towards Robb, who was walking back towards them.

"I did," Robb replied. "I let Bran go," he explained. "He has a different path. I let him do what he needed to do."

"Robb... do you know what that means?" Jon asked him. "We're... all..."

"Aye, I do," Robb concluded. "We're Wargs and Greenseers. And we'll have to be damned good ones if we want to survive."

HAN: OHOHOHOHOHO~ How did you like that? I know that in book canon, Bran is the only warg/Greenseer, but since Sansa has the same ability, I decided to make it uniform amongst the Stark kids. I changed the ending of the raid on the mutineers just to facilitate this little... development.

Littlefinger in Winterfell, Lysa already dead... HMMMM, why though?

Enjoy!